Episode Report Card Demian: B- | 1 USERS: A YOU GRADE IT Wiccaning II: The, Um, Wiccaning, Actually
By Demian | Season 7 | Episode 3 | Aired on 09.25.2004
...the "San Francisco Bay Area Reader's [sic] Choice Awards." Unless, of course, only one reader is awarding them, in which case I should remove the [sic]. Phoebe, in full-on Phoebe The Amazing Dipshit mode, swipes a glass of wine from a passing waitress's tray before shooting, "That is so cool -- they didn't even card me!" straight through her nose and over towards a nearby table of horrified media types. Heh. Sparklies arrives, thinks she's drunk, and I so don't care about Nick Lachey, so I'll be skipping through most of this scene, which is unfortunate, because it's one of those rare occasions where Phoebe's stupidity is endlessly amusing, rather than endlessly annoying. Long story short, she scampers to the podium to accept the award herself, but is struck dumb when the late, unlamented May Tuna pops up from the crowd to inquire about the inspiration for the advice dispensed in the winning column. Slampiece Sparklies steps in to save Phoebe's bony derriere, and that's pretty much it, though Milano does elicit a smirk and a few snickers from yours truly when she fawns all over Sparklies afterwards before pulling away from him in childish embarrassment and bounding out of the frame like some dachshund who's overdosed on Ritalin. Scene.
Not!warts, and it's time for spell-addled Raige to make an idiot out of herself as she interrupts one of Lurch's classes to drag him into the hallway so she can hike her tongue down his throat. Grams arrives on the scene to drag Raige back to the Manor. Would-Be-Slampiece Lurch sighs in dreamily smitten ecstasy and collapses against a pillar. Whatever, Lurch. They've already announced that Kerr Smith is going to play Rose McGowan's main love interest this season, so I hope you've made the most of the craft services table during your brief stay here, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. 'Kay?
Not!warts. An unconscious Tiny Gay Chris has finally let that pacifier drop from his mouth, and it now rests on the bassinet mattress beside him in the darkened Not-So-Great Hall. Meanwhile, the Psycho flips around in his product-placed playpen as the Dolt paces anxiously in the gloom across the room. Wait a minute. What the hell time is it? Because it was light, you know, with Phoebe and Raige just...oh, fuck it. The Psycho rouses himself in time for the suspiciously Dolt-like dark demonic force to flash into the room right next to the Psycho's playpen. As the Psycho erects his force field, the Dolt himself sporks the mystery guest violently into the wall. The mystery guest quickly rebounds to his feet, and the two assault each other with bolts of electricity that slam into each other at the center of the room, eventually flaring outwards to the point that they demolish a nearby table and a couple of chandeliers. The Dolt's bolts prove a mite bit stronger, though, and the mystery guest flips backwards to the floor in slow motion, losing his mask in the process. When the guest rises once more, he turns, and...it's another Dolt. No, seriously. No. Seriously. I've got to put up with two copies of the fucking loser now. Again. In any event, Dolt II here needs a nickname, and I've been assisted in that area by the forum's lovely and talented DiePhoebeDie, who took one look at the ridiculous fuzzy knit cape-and-cowl combo they've slung Krause into for this bit and came up with "Doltbacca," which works beautifully for me. "Whaaaaat?" the Dolt slurs as Doltbacca eyes him rather calmly. I think Krause is retaining water. Anyway, Grams and Raige scurry in from the hall in time to catch the tail end of the resulting staring contest between the Dolts, after which Doltbacca flashes out. Grams glares and slings a protective arm across Raige's shoulder as the Dolt gapes his way into the commercial break.