Episode Report Card Demian: B- | 214 USERS: C+ YOU GRADE IT Tim Whoooooo? Inspector Whaaaaaa?
By Demian | Season 7 | Episode 21 | Aired on 2005.05.15
Many thanks to Djb for pretty much providing this recap's title, and mad props to payndz for calling this episode's plotline last summer.
Previously on Du Wirst Zum Sklaven Gemacht Von Der KooterTät!!!, Phoebe decided to purchase a graduate degree for herself; the ever-useless Elders gave Raige the lovely Mitchell Haines as her first supposed Whitelightery charge; Raige killed a rocking P3 buzz with a dire warning regarding Pepper Anderson, The Best Policewoman In The History Of Forever, who had been blasted with some of Dead Bulging Brody's magical fairy dust after rising from her coma; Piper reminded Raige that Pepper's memory could come roaring back at any second; and Zankou buzzed out of his Underworld prison to absorb the dread Woogy, which instead infected the Dolt, who then blasted Zankou onto his tantalizing, leather-clad ass.
Currently on The Whore Lived Like A Phoebe, we fade up on a crowded Berkeley quad before heading inside a nearby parking garage, where a former male model is in the middle of changing one of the rear tires on Phoebe's car. "Can you hand me the tire iron?" His Hotness asks the Feebs. "Uh, yeah!" she perks, passing His Hotness a lug bolt. Oooo-kay. We can play this one of two ways, kids. With the first option, we pretend they included a bit of dialogue wherein it becomes apparent Phoebe's playing dumb with the big, strong, disturbingly attractive lunkhead of a former male model not only because she equates incompetence with desirability for some reason and is flirting with him, but also because she doesn't want to get axle grease and San Francisco street grime all over her clothes, because otherwise we're going to have to forget that Phoebe is a tire-repair expert. With the second option, we hurl heavy objects at the TV while cursing everyone and everything associated with this stupid fucking show, all the while howling in despair at the thought of an eighth goddamned season. It's your call. Oh, and look at that! In an entirely unexpected Burst Of Cleansing Synchronicity, Phoebe and His Hotness discuss cognitive dissonance. Welcome to the club, assholes. Well, maybe we'll limit the name-calling to Phoebe, because "Tim" certainly is a tasty little thing. Besides, he's not long for this world. Ooops! Spoiler!