Episode Report Card Demian: B- | 214 USERS: C+ YOU GRADE IT Tim Whoooooo? Inspector Whaaaaaa?
By Demian | Season 7 | Episode 21 | Aired on 2005.05.15
Manor. Piper staggers through the front door with poor, doomed Tiny Gay Chris and a couple of shopping bags, bellowing for her sisters while bitching about traffic on the freeways the entire time. The Dolt trails her into the foyer with the dead-eyed Psycho, and I so do not care about their transportation issues now that they've given up, as the Dolt puts it, "the cosmic taxi" in favor of a normal life, so let's get to the point of this scene already, okay? And no, despite the howls of outraged protest the decision elicited from some on the forum boards, the point of this scene is not that Piper so thoughtlessly decides to cancel Tiny Gay Chris's birthday party in light of Tasty Tim's death. The point of this scene is actually Raige's NIPPLES, which arrive in the main hall from above about three minutes prior to their support system's own entrance, and are now threatening to poke Tiny Gay Chris's eyes right out of his ginormous head. Seriously, Raige: Bra. NOW. ANY-way, long story short, Piper's ignorance of Phoebe's trip to the morgue befuddles Raige for a moment, as Raige was under the impression that Piper herself encouraged Phoebe to go in the first place. This should, of course, set off all sorts of warning bells in the gals' minds because of their recent experiences with shape-shifters, but because everyone present is a complete fucking retard, it doesn't. Instead, Piper and Raige repair to the sun porch to perch on the wicker furniture and fret about Phoebe's Issues for a moment before Raige rises to orb off for a meeting with her new charge, "Joanna." Joanna's backstory is grindingly familiar, so I'll be skipping over it in favor of...skipping to the next scene, actually. Hooray for recycled plotlines!
Over at the coroner's office, Phoebe and Detective Doormat clomp through the halls as the Doormat warns Phoebe about Pepper Anderson's mounting suspicions. Phoebe, supposedly so disheartened by Tasty Tim's death that she no longer gives a rat's ass about Pepper Anderson, blows him off and plows past the Doormat to enter an examining room. The Doormat heaves a beleaguered sigh and follows, eventually leading Phoebe over to a black body bag lying atop a gurney. The Doormat unzips the thing, and the instant Phoebe glimpses the garish gashes on Pasty Tim's face, she spins around to gag into her hand, and I'm not buying one second of this crap at all. Two weeks. She knew this guy for two weeks, people. Yeah, he's hot, but please. Whatever. Phoebe eventually pulls herself together and places a hand on the corpse to force a premonition. Nothing happens. The Doormat, meanwhile, examines the body and guesses, "It looks like somebody was trying to send a message." "What?" Phoebe gasps, shocked at this supposition. "Why would you say that?" "It's vicious, it's calculated," the Doormat explains, "I see this all the time -- it's like it makes you think twice when you see him, and maybe that's the point. Do demons send messages like this?" he wonders. Phoebe, increasingly wrecked by the entire experience, which...no, because see above, and shut up, Phoebe, bleats, "Well, if it is a message, it's obviously for me." Because everything is All About Phoebe. Hag. With that, the Feebs spins on her heel and charges out of the room. The Doormat takes a long moment, zips the bag closed over Pasty Tim's face, and follows Phoebe through the swinging metal doors into the hallway beyond. The instant the Doormat's gone, Zankou blazes into the room, followed shortly by Corpse Fucker. "Poor Phoebe!" Zankou giggles. "So troubled, and it's only gonna get worse for her!" Hee! Oh, pretty please, Zankou? Don't be making me promises you can't keep, now. You know I've always had your back. Corpse Fucker, continuing to irritate, natters something vaguely disgusting and definitely dumb before ambling over to Pasty Tim's body bag. "Can it be done?" Zankou asks, following Corpse Fucker to the gurney. Corpse Fucker unzips the bag, takes a deep whiff, and sneers, "Rigor hasn't set in -- it's barely a challenge." "Then let's get to work," Zankou shrugs. He stretches his arms out with his palms hovering over Pasty Tim's body, and presently, Zankou's hands emit a pale pink glow that quickly suffuses the corpse. Before we get a chance to witness the glow's effects, however, the scene cuts to...