Episode Report Card Demian: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Men Suck
By Demian | Season 5 | Episode 21 | Aired on 05.03.2003
Meanwhile, the man who was once both Prince Humperdinck and Susan Sarandon's husband -- though not necessarily in that order, of course -- broods while pacing back and forth in a dusty, candlelit chamber. Meet the Necromancer. Chris Sarandon's spectral for the first half of this scene, which means he can brood while pacing through objects as impressive as those shattered urns that litter the floor. He's also aging very badly, though as he's pushing sixty from the other side, I suppose I should cut him some slack. Then again, Jennifer Rhodes is roughly the same age, and she looks fantastic. So, what the hell is wrong with you, Chris? Huh? Not only is he aging badly, but he's sporting a goatee, a single gold hoop in his left ear, and ruffly cuffs on his white shirt. He's a geriatric pirate, for Christ's sake.
A dork who looks like Martin Short and sounds like Andy Dick materializes with that goddamn fairy queen from "Once Upon A Time" screwed into a Mason jar. I hate Martin Short and Andy Dick almost as much as I hate that goddamn fairy queen. The fairy queen, however, rather agreeably drops dead while Martin Short and Andy Dick live on and on, sucking up precious oxygen from other, more talented comedians. The dead fairy gives up her ghost, which Spectral Chris promptly consumes by zapping it with a few bolts of blue electricity from his index finger. In some sort of magical transference, the ghost of that goddamned fairy percolates through Chris's spectral form until he corporealizes next to his Short-alike flunky. The two boys then get frisky with the exposition, with Corporeal Chris the far more entertaining of the two, mainly because he's an honest-to-God actor and not some hapless Short-alike loser who's resume consists of one worthless "Waiter" role after another. "I was a powerful demon!" Corporeal Chris rages, relishing every shard of that scenery he's devouring. "A ruler! ALIVE!" Short Dick snides something that I'll ignore, mainly because I want him dead, but also because Corporeal Chris really can handle all of this on his own. We learn that Chris gains fleeting moments of solidity by eating magical beings, but his ultimate goal is to resurrect himself, which he promises to do at some point in the very near future. And…scene.
Sleazy Airport Hotel. Phoebe's finished her nooner with Chronic and now stares out the window at all those jetliners spreading their wings and fly-YIII-ing. Will the poor Feebs ever stop carrying the weight of the world so she, too, can fly-YIII? Girl, please. Like Phoebe's ever carried anything weightier than a tampon-stuffed handbag, and like I give a rat's ass anyway. Chronic emerges from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, and I had a joke about his wet hair that involved oral sex and Phoebe's anatomical quirks, but I vomited all over myself before I could finish typing it. Also, Chronic's wearing a robe, like, hello? If you want the audience to embrace the character, you'd best be slinging Eric Dane's himbo ass into a scanty little towel, you nitwits. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Recapping a tedious scene made all the more boring by the complete lack of exposed male skin. Chronic's relocating to Hong Kong for six months, and wants Phoebe to join him. He's even bought her a "Chinese-American" dictionary so she can translate her Amurrican into the local lingo. Tool. Phoebe phrets.
A gorgeous shot of the fog rolling over the Marin headlands carries us up to The Ratbag Lounge. Okay, fine. That could be a shot of Fort Frigging Bragg for all I know. Leave me alone. Raige hesitantly enters to find her current slampiece chatting with a supplier on the phone. He quickly ends the call and rises to offer her a drink. Raige declines, then whips out a slip of paper and quickly reads the following: