Episode Report Card Demian: F | 1 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT Jesus Is Just Alright With Me
By Demian | Season 7 | Episode 20 | Aired on 05.07.2005
Oh, I'm kidding. Like I could give a rat's ass about any of this. Had you going there for a second, though, didn't I?
Berkeley. The Fun Bags jiggle down a sidewalk upon teetering heels to confront their psychology lecturer, "Professor Slotkin," over the Psycho's developmental difficulties. After listening to Phoebe babble incessantly for about fifteen minutes with an expression of, at best, mild annoyance on her face, Professor Slotkin supposes the Psycho's concocted an imaginary friend for himself, and launches into a needless explanatory monologue involving immature thinking and conflict resolution and coping mechanisms and blah until Phoebe interrupts for a moment to scramble for a pen so she can write this all down. The good professor widens her eyes a bit at this and pointedly states, "Oh, and that's 'Slotkin' with an S. ...You were planning on giving me credit?" the good professor prompts. Phoebe doesn't get it. Go figure. The good professor snaps that last week's class discussion on imprinting ended up in this week's "Ask Phoebe." "I'm assuming we're discussing next week's content, no?" she sneers. Phoebe splutters in protest, but The Very Good Professor cuts her off with, "Please. We both know why you're taking my class. I've spent years studying and teaching psychology, Miss Halliwell -- dedicating my life to it," The Most Excellent Professor continues, "but I'll be damned if I'm just going to let you poach my class to steal a sound bite or two for your column." The Most Excellent Professor Ever To Appear On American Television concludes, "You want to learn about imaginary friends? Do the research!" before casually striding away from the flabbergasted Feebs. BOO-ya! The Feebs is all, "But...but...I didn't...I don't...oh, fuck it! That BITCH is so eating a wall before this evening is over!" Seriously, Professor Slotkin. I'd switch teams for you after that scene, but I must express my concern for your physical well being. No one calls Phoebe on her bullshit and lives to tell about it.
Manor. Up on the sun porch, the Psycho carefully extracts a length of industrial-strength wiring from one of his deadly playthings, which he surreptitiously pockets for later use as a garrote on poor, doomed Tiny Gay Chris. Meanwhile, the oblivious Piper and the Dolt sit at the nearby table, nattering away about their boring parenting issues and such until the Dolt notes that they don't know if the mental "road bumps" the Psycho's apparently enduring at the moment are "magical, or just a part of normal development." "I wish we could just ask him," Piper sighs, tossing a worried glance in the Psycho's direction while skillfully setting the stage for tonight's wacky Wiccan hijinks at the same time. Unfortunately, Raige orbs onto the sun porch at this moment to bitch about the Maori people and how she never wants to see any of them again -- no, seriously, and we're supposed to be rooting for this incompetent bitch...why? -- before confessing that she might have learned the identity of this evening's demonic posse. Piper stage-whispers for the Dolt to take the murderous child upstairs so he doesn't overhear any of the "demon talk." Whatever, Piper. The Psycho thrives on that shit. Once the Dolt's disappeared with the brat, Raige reveals that her research at Not!warts indicates the demons' "various offensive powers are traditionally associated with good magic," which "supports the theory that [the Psycho's] creating them." "Oh, for crying out loud!" Piper brays, outraged that Raige would continue to believe Piper's precious sociopath is the source of their current woe. Just then, the phone rings. The soundtrack lets us all know that This Is Possibly A Very Bad Thing by going nuts with the dun-dun-DUN! horns and whatnot. "This is ridiculous!" Piper groans. "We can't live like this," she continues, rising from her chair and crossing into the dining room to rummage through one of the sideboard's drawers for a pen and some paper; the unanswered phone continues to ring in the background. "I'm going to figure out if [the Psycho] is behind this once and for all," she vows, slamming the drawer shut for emphasis.