Episode Report Card Demian: C- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Mata Whori
By Demian | Season 6 | Episode 13 | Aired on 01.24.2004
Piper enters to cut this conversation short with, "Got anything?" Raige has, indeed, and indicates the Book's entry on Swarm Demons. The text is far too small and far too densely serifed for me to read it, much less transcribe it, so we'll have to take Raige at her word when she claims the bondage queens "are distant relatives of Kazis and Vampires, which means they come from a hive." "So they were drones that we were killing," Piper realizes as Buttfuck suspiciously sidles over to the gals' potion table. "No wonder they kept coming back," Piper adds. "We have to kill the king to kill the hive, which requires a Power of Three spell." Piper immediately proposes retrieving Phoebe for the vanquish, but Raige urges her to allow Phoebe and Chronic a little time to sort through their issues. Piper is so not having it, but for some reason she caves anyway. She and Raige will track down the bondage queens' king on their own to…do nothing, really. They're just going to drop in for a couple of cocktails, I suppose. Stupid show. Raige squeezes herself into a jacket while offering to orb Buttfuck home. "It's okay," he says, "I drove over." Raige promises to call him as soon as she returns and orbs out with Piper. Buttfuck, so stupidly left alone in the attic by the woman who'd been paranoid about his potential for misuse of magic ever since she met him, and with whom he just had an endless chat about unethically manipulating spells to cleanse his family's bad karma, barely lets the gals dematerialize before darting over to the Book of Shadows. He flips through the pages, searching for an appropriate spell.
All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me. Chronic stands alone in his darkened office, nibbling distractedly on his thumb. He senses some off-camera presence and lifts his head to find Phoebe standing in the gloom of the doorway, silently watching him. "You stay away!" he blurts, crossing to hide behind his desk. "We have to talk," she begins, entering the room, but Chronic cuts her off with a bit of spluttering before finally babbling, "This is so far beyond my reality, I'm just still trying to figure out how you could…" He trails off before howling an accusatory, "Fifteen months, I didn't know!" Not hardly, Chronic. Try again. Douche. Phoebe insists she wanted to tell him, but couldn't. "But you know now," she pleads, "so could we just talk about this?" Fine, Chronic sneers, snatching up an old newspaper from his desk. "What about this?" he demands, waving the thing in her face. "The Godiva Girls -- was this magic?" No. It was ass. But I suppose that's not the point here. "What about that funny looking cousin of yours -- Cousin Seamus? Was he one of the Seven Dwarves?" Not so much, Phoebe admits, informing Chronic that the stoopid magikal kreature in question was actually a leprechaun. Wow. Chronic's been around for some really shitty episodes, hasn't he? Maybe that's why I hate him so much. Not. "I know how you feel," Phoebe murmurs. "How do I feel, Phoebe?" he spits. "Tell me, because I don't know, and you always seem to know, so tell me -- how's it gonna feel when I crash? 'Cause I see one coming. Is it gonna feel like when you said, 'I love you, too'? Because that was magic, wasn't it?" "But I do love you," Phoebe whispers, her voice cracking and tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't want you to find out like this," she vows, coming perilously close to weeping openly. "Believe me." Chronic ignores this to natter something about his speech to the French shareholders the next day before brushing past her to flee the building. Phoebe bites her lower lip, wrecked.