Episode Report Card Demian: F | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT This Show Blows, And I Want To Die
By Demian | Season 5 | Episode 17 | Aired on 04.05.2003
AUUUGH.
ANY-way. Ew! Where the hell was I? Oh, yeah -- Phoebe's received an amusing email on her Palm Pilot from "Cyrano73," with whom she's been flirting in an Internet chat room. This will become important later. Raige floats in from the hallway with a basket and disappears into the laundry room as Phoebe natters about Chronic The Hedgehog and the unreasonable demands he's been placing upon her since he assumed control of the newspaper. He did, however, gift her with a hefty raise, which Phoebe brats "is a bribe so I wouldn't quit." Stow it, you hag. You should take some of the extra cash and buy clothes that actually cover up your snatch. Phoebe air-kisses The Doltine Cracker and heads off to work -- in those pants -- as Raige squeals in from the laundry room with a tiny, shrunken sweater pressed against her chest. "Ah, come on," Piper smirks. "You've worn tighter things than that." Raige sniffily insists that that's not the point. The tiny sweater's still stained with demonic gore, and she can't keep replacing her clothes because she's running out of her savings! So go get a freaking job like the rest of us, you whiny sow.
Wow. I hate everyone tonight, don't I? Yeesh.
In any event, Raige insists, "I cannot afford to keep paying for this," right before a tiny light bulb flashes above her head. "Unless," she continues, "magic reimburses me." Piper shoots Raige a look of death and makes mention of the prohibition against personal gain. "Do I need to remind you of the big boob fiasco?" she asks. No. No, you didn't need to remind us of that insulting subplot, so thanks for nothing, dearie. "Don't worry," Raige replies, heading for the hall. "I won't do anything stupid." Piper, furious, tries to follow, but finds her path blocked by the Dolt, who's finally orbing back from Whitelighterland. "We've got problems," he announces. Piper duhs and bitches about The Done One and the club and the money and the wah, but the Dolt shuts her up with, "Not marital problems -- demonic ones."
Cue tonight's demonic problems. Over in a cave, Olivia from Buffy's "Hush" episode cools her heels with Elle from 90210. They're waiting for Greg, who finally squiggles in with the long-awaited exposition. He's trying to assume control of the Underworld and he'd like their support, which he manages to purchase with two of the vanquished leprechaun's "gold" "nuggets." Of course, this means that all three of these people will be dead by episode's end, so I don't know why they're bothering. "Sláinte is táinte," Greg intones, and the "nuggets" stream into the ladies' bodies. Greg's no better at pronouncing the Gaelic than the midget was. Olivia and Elle eye each other and grin.
The Bay Mirror. Phoebe, employing the handle "Cinderella29," chats online with Cyrano73. He asks for a date. She tells him to go to hell. Is this episode over yet? It isn't? Damn. Phoebe's non-Mary Cherry assistant interrupts with some bad news: Chronic hated the first draft of Phoebe's dating article, has sent it back crimson with corrections, and would appreciate a rewrite by close of business. Phoebe, apoplectic with rage that someone would dare criticize her prose, storms into Chronic's office, hikes up her pants, and there goes my lunch. Along with my ability to focus on anything that follows. I'd been ignoring The Pants, you see, and doing quite a good job of it, too, but now? Forget it. My eyes are riveted on Phoebe's crotch, and yes, it is indeed exactly like staring into the face of Satan. Thanks for asking. "Blah blibbety blah blah wah," bleats the Feebs. "Wah wibbety wah wah blah," snaps Chronic. Phoebe's Cooter picks its teeth with a letter opener. At some point, Chronic insists that Phoebe and The Cooter join him "on assignment" that evening at six, so Chronic can convince them that online dating is A Very Good Thing. Phoebe rolls her eyes in aggravation as Chronic strides past her into the main office. Scene.