Episode Report Card Demian: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT You Lost Me
By Demian | Season 4 | Episode 12 | Aired on 01.30.2002
Kitchen. Phoebe, with the happy homemaker schtick. The only thing I'm willing to grant them is that Phoebe's hair looks more and more like Elizabeth Montgomery's as this episode lurches along. Right now it's bouffed up a bit like Samantha, circa 1972. Everything else about this plotline? Blows. The Dolt enters to fetch some water for the fire in the parlor and notices something's not quite right with Phoebe. Dolt that he is, he drops the matter and exits as the phone rings. Phoebe answers it to find Cole on the other end. He bitches about the slumlord, a right bastard who cut off the heat to an elderly tenant's apartment. The tenant caught pneumonia, and then the slumlord tried to have her evicted. Phoebe makes comforting noises and promises to have a martini and a steak waiting for him when he gets home. It hurts me both physically and psychically to type this shit out, people. Phoebe abruptly ends the call when the doorbell rings.
The shot cuts to the hallway, where Piper is already on her way to answer the door. Phoebe skitters past her to greet Andy and Vicky, posing as the perfect WASP couple on the front porch. Upon learning they're looking for Tywer, Phoebe invites them in and offers to whip up something for them to eat. Piper, thankfully, cuts through the crap and suspiciously asks them how they knew to find Tywer at the Manor. There's an awkward pause before Vicky perks, "Maternal instinct?" Andy gapes at Vicky's overwhelming stupidity for a moment, then pimp-slaps Piper backwards into the parlor. Phoebe hoots and yodels. Piper leaps to her feet and tosses her hands into attack position. She misses the McGees entirely. The hall mirror? Vanquished. The Flaming Ball Of Death makes its triumphant return as Vicky hurls one at Piper. Piper dodges it, and Hell gets a new lamp. Vicky flings another FBOD as the Dolt tackles Piper to the floor. I'm certain The Source will enjoy his new overstuffed armchair. "Leave them alone!" Tywer screams. Vicky tells him to can it. Madonna shrieks, "Just like a dream! You are not what you seem! Just like a prayer! No choice! YOUR VOICE WILL TAKE ME THERE!" Vicky and Andy burst into flame. In what is possibly the best version of demons blazing on down to Hell I've yet seen on this show, it takes quite some time before they're completely gone. Vicky's howls of anguish and despair in particular are most effective. The jerky, hand-held camera pans across Piper, past Tywer, and into commercial.
"The WB Milk Moustache Mystery"? Are they high?