Big ups, as always, to SunMoonStar.
Fade up on the Manor porch at night. The Glamorous Ladies emerge in tandem through the front door, clad in a rather drab set of party togs. Like, really drab. Prue's wearing a simple burgundy scoop-neck top over a dark skirt and a pair of low-heeled slingbacks, and Phoebe's pretty much clad all over in your basic black. Most offensive is Piper's pale-pink floral-patterned summer shift with the dark-red piping at the neckline, and it's not so much offensive as it is inappropriate for evening wear in late October in San Francisco. They're giving me absolutely nothing to work with here. In any event, the gals natter about the housewarming party to which they've been invited across the street. Prue has to work the following morning, so she's planning to bounce through the soiree in about twenty minutes and then leave. Phoebe, needless to say, won't be satisfied until she's completed several rounds of tequila slammers and enough keg stands to forget the name of the guy she's going to drag back to the Bimbo Boudoir in about four hours so she can have the drunken sex. And Piper? She's having "a bad hair day." Yawn. The ladies cross out of the frame into the street.
The camera pans up to the bushes in front of the house to reveal an Ominous Black Mastiff, panting in the heat, or something. In honor of recent events in Bay Area, I'd call the mutt "Bane," but too many people would then confuse the dog with Prue's second-season underwear-model jailbreaking one-night-stand, and "Cujo" is trite, so let's call the pooch and his murderous, saliva-dripping chops "Snuggles." Snuggles eyes the gals' progression from his perch above the sidewalk, and those eyes of his glow yellow.
As the Ps enter their new neighbors' home, Phoebe perks, "Hey, I have an idea! Why don't we throw a party and charge admission? It's a great way to make some extra cash." Bonehead, this is not Party Girl, and you most certainly are not Parker Posey, so shut it. Prue snidely remarks, "Hey! I've got an even better idea: Why don't you get a job?" We love the Prue. The three elbow their collective way through a throng of early twentysomethings in the front hallway to greet the neighbors. Said neighbors are, in order of appearance, Marshall, a dark-haired young man who's a bit like Ted from Queer As Folk with just a hint of gonorrhea, especially around his nose area; Marshall's brother Fritz, who looks like the unholy love child of John C. Reilly and Simon from Go by way of the unruly-haired millionaire freak the latter actor played on Roswell; and, finally, their sister Cynda, a butch-yet-pretty mix of Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bernhard. Well, if they're going to have an episode about morphing, they might as well hire actors who are basically blended versions of other people, right? They're like a trio of rejects from the Hollywood Geneticists' Lab. Marshall, apropos of nothing, is the more attractive of the boys, though his easygoing and affable demeanor and his overly pleasant and unthreatening tenor make me think I shouldn't develop a crush anytime soon. I've a feeling he's going to be vanquished before the evening is over. Must be that bowling shirt he's wearing.
The ladies and the neighbors chat a bit, during which we discover that the neighbors have recently purchased this house. The boys are dressed in dork-chic retro resale, and Cynda looks like she specializes in rehabbing cast-offs found at the Salvation Army, so I'm guessing they're meant to be dot-com types so nouveau with their riche that the ink is still drying on the bills. Either that, or they inherited an obscene amount of money from their presumably-deceased parents, because how the hell else could they afford a house in the Halliwells' neighborhood? More importantly, why isn't Prue asking them these very questions? A trio of early-twenties siblings suddenly buys the multimillion-dollar home across the street, and the coven's Alpha Witch has no suspicions whatsoever? Feh. Chattering over, the neighbors disperse to leave the Ps to their own devices, but not before Cynda sneers playfully and crushes a beer can between her hands. Demonic? Or Australian? You decide.
"Okay," Prue announces. "I came, I saw, I was perky, and now I just want my head on a pillow." Piper and Phoebe protest that it would be far too rude of her to leave when they've just gotten there. Prue, knowing that rudeness is one of her strengths, senses tomfoolery afoot and orders the other two to level with her. Piper and the Feebs play dumb -- one far more authoritatively than the other -- before the Feebs sing-songs, "Oh, look who's here! What a co-inky-dink!" Shut up, Phoebe. Prue glances over her shoulder to spy Andy Trudeau, doing the "hey there" frat-boy jazz-hand wave-thing from across the room. Miss Prue is most displeased. Phoebe giggles and claims she invited Andy for Prue's own good, and then she books away with Piper in tow before Prue can smash a bottle over her head. Andy sidles on over, and they make with the banter. Something about the Halliwell gals working on world peace after they master the art of subtlety, so, you know, expect the bombs to start dropping any minute now. Andy, by the way, looks like he's fifteen years older than most of the yahoos at this party. So, banter, banter, banter, and it's awkward for them, and Andy's lipless wonder of a mouth invites Prue to a Warriors game, and then it's awkward for me, because I have to admit that I had no idea the Warriors were a basketball team until Prue snarked about their dismal record against the Lakers. Prue nervously begs off, claiming that she "might have a thing" that Saturday. Neighbor Fritz dorks up to her rescue, interrupting the conversation to ask if Andy's really a cop, 'cause Fritz has these parking tickets, you see. Prue smirks at Fritz and wordlessly abandons Andy in the middle of the party. Snicker.
Outside, Prue hurries across the street and up the Manor's front steps as the camera tracks her from behind. Her gait slows when she notices that the front door has been left ajar. She enters the Manor silently with a look on her face that's caught somewhere between puzzlement and annoyance, and eases the door shut behind her to wander through the front hall. Bad move. Snuggles the Demonic Mastiff has taken up residence on the stairwell landing, and slobbers rabidly foamy doggy drool all over the carpet while barking ominously at her. Prue freezes where she stands, then slowly begins to back towards the front door. Snuggles, with the barking. Prue, with the backing away. Barking. Backing. Bark. Back. Ba. B. Prue finally drops her purse on the floor, spins on her heel, and darts out the door. Snuggles scampers after her on his jaunty little doggy legs. Aw. Snuggles is precious. And he's also the worst excuse for a canine thespian I've ever seen. You're supposed to be scary, you freak. Cuddly Snuggles stops on the threshold like the obedient little animal actor he is to arf and yip and whatnot as his eyes glow yellow and we fade out into the opening credits.
Opening travelogue. The city is awfully pretty at night, but why do they have to ruin the view by superimposing Brian Krause's name all over it? I knew it was too good to last. Over at Halliwell Manor, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe discuss the doggy invasion while puttering around the kitchen. Prue notes that Snuggles was "huge" and that he left "scratches on the attic door." Ruh-roh! Yeah, I know. Sars can fire me at will for that one. Piper wonders how the mutt got inside in the first place. Prue shoots an accusatory glare at the Feebs and snarls, "Someone must have left the door open again." Phoebe protests her innocence, and demands to know why Prue never accuses Piper of such things. Piper glances up from her futzing to shout, "Not it!" Snerk. Prue admits that she told Andy of the invasion, so he'll be checking up on them from time to time. "How convenient," her sisters snigger between themselves. Prue orders them to cram it, adding that a security system's out of the question given the cost, "so, we could rely on our vicious guard cat to protect us," she tells them, "or we could remember to lock the doors." With this final admonition, Prue heads off into the pantry to stack dishes. "That is a good idea, Prue," Phoebe calls after her, then hops from her perch on the center island to lock Prue out of the room. God! I ask you, would you tempt fate by pulling that sort of crap with Prue? You know she'd rip off your head and whiz down your neck if you did, so why bother?
Buckland's, the following morning. Prue sits at her desk in a demure twin set, cataloguing slides on her laptop. The shadow of a visitor engulfs her, and she looks up from her work to greet him. The man, who with his bulletproof hair, shiny tailored suit, boyish face, and beady black eyes looks like a Muppet version of a mobster, asks Prue if she could examine his ring. He'd have the Buckland's appraiser do it, but that person would need the ring for a week. As this gentleman doesn't want to part with his "family heirloom" for so long a period of time, he was wondering if Prue could offer her opinion. Prue gamely takes a look, noting that the two stones are "chrysolite" while adding that the setting dates from the seventeenth century. "Egyptians believed [chrysolite] would protect them from spells, curses, and evil spirits," she idly explains. I should mention that while researching chrysolite myself, I found the following bit of information that is even more anvilicious than Prue's, given who Prue's visitor is shortly revealed to be: Chrysolite also "disposes one towards repentance." Prue has a feeling she's seen a similar ring before, and asks her guest if it's a wedding band. The setting, you see, features braided gold entwining the two stones. A light goes off in Prue's head and she levels her gaze at the mafia Muppet, asking again where he got the ring. He leans forward to reply, "I think you know, Prudence." The bitch? She is strapped on. Prue shoots a monumental stink-eye at her visitor as she rises from her desk to spit, "Get out, and stay. Away. From us!" The Mafia Muppet also rises and mildly notes that he's staying at "The Beaumark." He invites Prue and her sisters to dine with him the following evening at the hotel. Prue is having none of it. "Get out before I have you thrown out!" she sneers. "Is that any way to talk to your father?" he asks mildly, for yes, Prue's visitor is the first iteration of Victor "Daddy Dearest" Bennett. For some reason, however, he's identified as "Victor Halliwell" in this episode, and I don't know why the name was changed in the third season. I suppose all the crack and the crystal had melted the producers' brains to the point where they couldn't remember two-year-old character names. The switch from Tony Denison to James Read I can understand. From the looks of his résumé, Denison had other things going on by the time Brad Kern decided to reintroduce the Glamorous Ladies' father. Don't laugh. It's true. But the name change? Inexcusable. To distinguish Denison from the later Daddy Dearest, we'll call him The Teflon Dad in honor of his leading role as the freshly-dead John Gotti in a 1994 television biopic. The Teflon Dad silently exits Prue's office as the camera pulls in to settle on Prue's furious face.
Later that morning in an outdoor café, the Ps gather to discuss the sudden reappearance of their deadbeat dad. Phoebe's stoked, and wants to head over to the hotel immediately to visit him. Piper's not quite as eager as the Feebs, but is nevertheless excited to see her father again after twenty years. Prue's outraged at the very idea, and wonders what The Teflon Dad wants. "Don't you find it a little suspicious that just when we find out we're witches, he shows up?" she asks. "Grams always told us he's a threat to us," she reminds them. "There's no reason to think inny of that has changed." Piper hesitantly concedes Prue's point, but adds that of the three, Prue is the only one old enough to have significant memories of The Teflon Dad. Maybe Piper herself and Phoebe would simply appreciate the chance to get to know him a little bit, and why is that necessarily a bad thing? Prue sighs and patiently explains, "Because we don't know why he's here, and until we do, we can't trust him." Piper bites her lip and stares into her coffee.
The "Beaumark." There is no Beaumark Hotel in San Francisco, and the establishing shot of the facade features a huge medallion over the entrance with an S encircled by a G smack in the middle of the thing, so I have no idea where the hell they are at the moment. The faithless Feebs raps on a door inside the hotel. From within, The Teflon Dad calls out, "Entrez!" "Entrez"? Cram it, you pretentious Muppet. Phoebe slides through the door and wanders down the short hallway into the suite proper to discover her father with a masseuse. No, not like that. He's actually getting a massage. "Daddy?" she bleats. When I first saw this episode, I was convinced that Milano and Denison had played Amy Fisher and Joey Buttafuoco in some horrifically trashy movie-of-the-week, and Phoebe's "Daddy?" therefore squicked me right out. To my abject dismay, I discovered that my memory had conflated two entirely different horrifically trashy movies-of-the-week into one great big waste of brain matter. Alyssa's Joey was a guy named Jack Scalia, while The Teflon Dad here appeared opposite Drew Barrymore, of all people. Yes, I apparently saw two separate Amy Fisher movies ten years ago. Let the beatings begin. Anyway, The Teflon Dad dismisses the masseuse for some quality time with Phoebe. Unfortunately, he gets her name wrong, calling her Piper instead. Back up there, Daddy. Didn't Phoebe reveal in the premiere that she went to New York to locate your Muppet ass, and returned to San Francisco only after she had found it? So why don't you know which P she is? Whatever. Let's just go with this brand-new version of Charmed reality. And this is only the third freaking episode, people. The Teflon Dad apologizes profusely for the error. Phoebe lets him off the hook far too easily, claiming that people mistake her for Piper all the time. Yeah, sweetheart. Try selling that one to the gang on the forum boards.
The scene continues with Phoebe getting a bit teary-eyed at the whole reunion thing, but I keep seeing her riding his mulleted ass in some tawdry Long Island motel and then blowing a hole in his wife's head, so it's just not working for me. The two eventually embrace, and Phoebe is flung into a premonition. The Teflon Dad snatches the Book of Shadows, grins maliciously, and backs away. Phoebe snaps out of it as the suite's phone rings. She concocts a hasty excuse to get away from him and bolts out of the room as he calls after her, "Phoebe! Wait!"
Manor. A whistling mailman lopes up the front steps and approaches the door. As The Thrumming Cello Of Demonic Intent hits the soundtrack, the mailman's eyes darken, and the camera pans down his body to his right hand. He extends his index finger, and ew! His fingertip morphs out into a key, and it's still attached to his hand! We get a completely unnecessary and vile shot of the flesh-into-metal fingertip key unlocking the front door, accompanied by appropriate sound effects, and then we cut to the darkened interior of the front hallway. God! That was disgusting! Couldn't he have morphed his entire hand into a key, rather than a single appendage? That was just too...repulsively evocative. Ew! The mailman shoots a wicked side-eye at his reflection in the mirror before bounding upstairs to the attic. He rattles the doorknob for a moment, then boots in the door with demonically enhanced force. He strides across the floor, spots the Book of Shadows lying innocently on its pedestal, and snatches it up into his arms, turning to race back down the stairs. So much for the fucking Book protecting itself from evil. The mailman attempts to exit the Manor with the thing, but as he crosses the threshold, the Book flares and zips backwards out of the crook of his arm onto the floor. The mailman grabs it from the floor, and then the actor engages in an amusing pantomimed tug-of-war with the prop before he hurls it towards the porch. The Book reaches the front door, flares again, and falls to the carpet. More violent struggling between the morphing man and the flaring prop, and this really should not amuse me as much as it does.
At that moment, Prue rounds the corner below to begin her climb up the steps. The mailman scampers back indoors, hurls the Book into the parlor, and morphs into Andy. Prue enters and starts at the sight of her supposed boyfriend. The Mandy feigns surprise, claiming he dropped by to check on the gals and found the door unlocked. Prue narrows her eyes at this and sets her purse on the entrance table. She spots the Book reflected in the hallway mirror and turns to surreptitiously TK it across the parlor floor under a low bookcase. Too-casually, she remarks that she's changed her mind about those Warriors tickets now that The Teflon Dad is in town. As she wants to avoid her father at all costs, she agrees to go to the game. The Mandy does a very bad job of pretending to know what she's talking about, all stuttering and stammering and blurting, "Great!" Neighbor Cynda suspiciously raps on the door, poking her head inside for a quick hello, making like they've agreed to keep an eye on each other's homes in light of last night's canine invasion of the Manor. Prue thanks her and waves her off. Cynda glares at The Mandy and exits. The Mandy fidgets and notes that he should probably leave as well. He awkwardly pecks Prue on the cheek and leaves. Prue locks the door behind him, pauses to collect herself, then clomps through the parlor to retrieve the Book from the floor. She examines it thoughtfully as she heads for the stairs. Upon reaching the blown-in attic door, she draws herself up short in consternation and mutters, "What the hell?" as she gazes upon the wreckage in the room. The camera slowly pulls in to her face. Shannen Doherty, mistress of the expressionless expression, blankly escorts us into the commercial break.
Remember that "Mr. Roboto" commercial for the Volkswagen Golf? Yeah, well, it's still annoying.
Manor kitchen. Prue has recalled Piper and Phoebe for a crisis conference. As she flips through the Yellow Pages, presumably to find someone to fix the attic door (and sweet baby Jesus in a feed trough, we all know who that's going to be), Prue notes that it's awfully odd how their estranged father's sudden reappearance has coincided with two attempts to steal the Book of Shadows. "The Craft is a chick thing, Prue," Piper whines. "It's passed on down through the female line. There's a good chance Dad doesn't even know we're Charmed." Prue's not buying this argument, pointing out that there's an equal chance The Teflon Dad does know about their powers. Meanwhile, Phoebe quietly flashes back to her premonition at the hotel. She stammers, "Let's just say he is after the Book. Wouldn't he have just taken it?" So, the ladies are not yet aware of the Book's powers of self-defense. Got that? Piper flatly states that they should report the break-in to the police, which seems like a good idea to me. Won't the police dust for prints, and wouldn't they then be able to determine if The Teflon Dad is the culprit? Well, unless Victor's one of those morphing types who can alter his fingerprints, I suppose, but then again, the gals aren't aware of that little plot twist yet, so whatever. Call the police, you morons.
Prue, however, ridicules Piper's plan, snarking that they can't tell the cops "someone's been trying to steal [their] broomsticks." Besides, she reveals, Andy's already been there. Phoebe throws a small hissy at this, squealing, "So Andy was here. Again. Talk about convenient! Did you ever think of pointing the finger at him?" Phoebe, honey, you got a goddamned premonition of your own freaking father with the Book in his hands. Knock it off with this Blame Everyone Except The Man Who Abandoned My Mother, My Sisters, And Me shit already, okay? Christ, if anyone's been looking for a little foreshadowing of the epic pain in the ass that has been Phoebe's ongoing relationship with Cole, look no further. Prue icily claims that it was Andy who probably scared The Teflon Dad away, and asserts that they should either hide the Book until they learn the true motive for The Teflon Dad's visit, or they should remain in the Manor to protect it themselves. Piper votes for hiding the thing, as she has every intention of dining with her father that evening. Phoebe agrees. Prue shrugs her shoulders dismissively, in effect telling her sisters to do whatever the hell they please. She, however, will not be in attendance that evening.
The "Beaumark." The Teflon Dad slickly steers the conversation away from any reservations Piper and Phoebe might have about his return by seducing them with stories of their respective childhoods. Of note from this dinner chatter: We learn that at this point in the series, Phoebe is supposedly twenty-one years old and Piper is twenty-four. Also, Phoebe could "swim like a fish" as an infant. Are we sufficiently bored? Good. Moving on.
Manor. Prue heats up some broccoli in the microwave as the doorbell rings. It's Andy, whose "plans for the evening fell through." Prue smirks playfully at this line of bullshit, and allows Andy in. A few minutes later, Prue's battering Andy with her various father-related complaints over coffee in the kitchen. Andy, good boyfriend that he is, patiently allows the waves of bitchery to crash over his head while quietly gnawing on a toothpick. Prue says that The Teflon Dad has just blown into town and somehow expects her to be the same little girl she was twenty years ago, and she's not, dammit! Quite true. Prue's matured into a full-on ball-buster, and you'd think the Mafia Muppet would have noticed. Prue wishes she could talk to the guy and let him know about everything he missed as she was growing up. "The time I broke my arm," she offers as an example. "Or the day I finally passed my driver's test. Our prom!" At this last, Andy extracts the toothpick from his mouth and deadpans, "Didn't we miss that, too?" Heh. Prue allows a smile. "I want him to know --" she begins, then corrects herself. "I want him to want to know. And I'm sorry, but I also want some answers, like where the hell has he been my whole life? Why didn't he come back until now? He needs to know that that's not okay." "So tell him," Andy whispers. Wow. This scene was so nicely played, I don't even feel like snarking about Shannen Doherty including anything car-related among her fondest memories. Andy quietly offers to drop Prue off at the hotel.
The "Beaumark." Prue-cam, as the witch in question stalks through the restaurant. The Teflon Dad rises to slather her with the same sort of oily slickery he used on her younger sisters, but Prue dumps sand down his pants, demanding to know where he's been for the last twenty years. And, oh yeah! If he can afford to stay at The "Beaumark," why didn't he return to offer aid when Grams died? The gals could have used some money back then. Piper attempts to smooth things over by feeding Prue the line of crap Victor fed her about the money being "new." Prue shuts her down. The Teflon Dad attempts to beguile her with some fatherly reminiscing, but Prue just trains her laser-like Eyes Of Disdain on him and spits, "We're sharing memories? I've got one of my own -- your back walking out the door." Oooh! Burn! For some reason, The Teflon Dad chooses to change the topic of conversation by tripping a passing waiter. Piper, naturally, panics and freezes the entire restaurant. Before the freeze can wear off, she scampers around the table to snatch the dessert tray from the stumbling waiter's hands. The scene unfreezes just as she's placing the dessert on the table. "Nice reflexes," smirks The Teflon Dad. "So, let me get this straight," he continues nonchalantly. "Piper, you [can manipulate the molecular structure of objects, thereby freezing them or blowing them up as you see fit]. Prue, don't you move objects? And what's your special trick, Phoebe? Premonition?" The Glamorous Ladies gape as The Teflon Dad suggests that they move the conversation to a more private arena.
Manor. "Piper" and "Phoebe" slouch on sofas in the parlor, paging through magazines. Mailman-cam as the demon himself stalks silently through the outer rooms. "Piper" leaps to her feet and howls, "What are you doing here?" "Phoebe" rises as well and orders him to leave. The mailman counters that the "Ps" themselves should scram "because they're on their way back." The mailman's voice ratchets up an octave as he says this, and he presently morphs into Fritz. "Phoebe" and "Piper" morph into Marshall and Cynda, respectively, and the new demonic neighbors bicker about how they're going to get the Book out of the Manor. Having seen more than my fair share of Twilight Zones and Outer Limitses in my time, I was completely unfloored by this development. In fact, so unfloored was I that I levitated up to the ceiling of my apartment and floated out through the skylight with boredom. By the way, I'd have referred to these three as The Wonder Triplets from their first appearance in the recap, but I thought it better to maintain the suspense. Heh. I crack myself up sometimes. Cynda morphs yet again into a ghoulish creature with sunken eyes, sharp teeth, and Joan Jett's shag haircut. I told you she was butch. Referring to Our Intrepid Trio, Cyndett howls, "Let's kill them!"
Out in the street, the Ps plus The Teflon Dad pull up in the Grand Cherokee and disembark.
Back in the parlor, Marshall rolls his eyes and says, "Cynda? Heel." Snerk. Cyndett's ghoulish, sunken eyes adopt a puppy-dog cast as she whimpers all, "Please? I want to eat the bimbo!" Marshall repeats his command and rejoins Fritz in the fretting. Meanwhile, the gals plus Victor ease open the front door. The Wonder Trips' powers have been activated once more, as the burgling neighbors are now crows. The three black birds caw and flutter out of the Manor as The Teflon Dad snarks, "Friends of yours?" Shut it, Muppet man. Commercial.
Manor parlor. Phoebe, Piper, and The Teflon Dad share a chuckle over some random framed photo; Prue clomps into the room from the hall to note that the birds must have flown in through an open window in the kitchen. She takes in the general levity in the parlor and glares. Piper and Phoebe, however, are completely enamored of their prodigal dad. Phoebe even goes so far as to bubble enthusiastically about how and when they obtained their powers. "One day," she giggles as part of the tale, "I am a member of the Y Generation with average hair and a thing for caffeinated beverages, and the , I'm a witch!" I have no idea where to begin with that, so I'll toss it over to you good people. Tear Phoebe a new one, gang. As if you needed another reason to do so. Piper senses that Prue's about to rip out Phoebe's throat herself if Phoebe continues, so she nervously flicks her hands around in the air and offers to fetch coffee for everyone. Phoebe doesn't take the hint and babbles on and on and on. Prue cuts through the crap to ask The Teflon Dad how long he's known about their powers. He claims that he never really was certain they were witches, but he's always known there was a possibility, which is a bald-faced lie. Yeah, fine. If the writers couldn't remember the guy's goddamned name two and a half years later, why would they remember that he didn't know about the gals' powers, right? Whatever. I'm calling him on it. Phoebe blurts out something about the initial spell she recited from the Book, and The Teflon Dad waxes nostalgic over the tome. He asks if it would be too much trouble to see it again. Phoebe appears eager to grant his request, like, you nattering little thickie. You had a premonition of him stealing the fucker. What the hell is your problem? Piper places her hands on her hips. Prue wraps her arms around her chest, the better to avoid plunging her fingernails into Phoebe's eyes for me. Unfortunately. Both ladies allow their jaws to rest on the floor.
Wonder Trip Manor. Screaming. Shrieking. Smashing of furniture. Cynda thinks they should've killed the Charmed Ones when they had they chance. Fritz believes that his plan of killing two of them and forcing the third to flee from the Manor with the Book is the better idea. Marshall smacks them both down, reminding them that The Wonder Trips are nowhere near strong enough to tangle with the Ps and win, which is why they need the Book. Once they get it out of the Manor, The Wonder Trips can use it to weaken the Power of Three, leaving the gals susceptible to serious harm. Fritz snots that they've already "tried everything" to get to the Book, and nothing has worked. Marshall smiles, "We still have Victor." DUN!
Manor. "Just what are you accusing me of, Prue?" asks The Teflon Dad. A verbal throwdown ensues, during which Prue urges her father to be honest with her sisters for the first time in his life. Ever the slimy one, Victor tries a different tack, admitting that he did indeed intend to abscond with the Book of Shadows, but claiming that he had the gals' best interests at heart. He asserts that the Ps have no idea what sort of evil awaits them in life if they don't renounce the Power of Three, and adds that the Book is a magnet for every dark demonic force sent from the flaming maw of Hell. Phoebe pouts that the Book is their heritage, and therefore a part of who they are. They couldn't possibly part with it. "That's what your mother used to say," he replies, "before they killed her." Smooth one, Muppet. He argues that this desire of his to protect his offspring from the sort of gruesome end their mother met is what led to his banishment from the Manor. He and Grams had a falling-out over the Glamorous Ladies' destiny, or whatever, and Grams told him to scram. Prue's been staring him down this entire time as if thinking to herself, "Now I know why those eyes of yours are so brown." Piper, however, nearly falls for this line of garbage, up until the point where The Teflon Dad casts aspersions on Grams's character. "You're blaming Grams for why you disappeared?" she howls, finally finding her voice. Prue snides something about Victor claiming that Grams placed him under a spell to keep him from his own children. Well, you know, I wouldn't put it past Grams to do something like that, but that's just me. The Teflon Dad turns in faux-desperation to the Feebs, begging her to believe him. Phoebe's fighting back tears and can't look her father in the eye. Victor plays his last card, insisting that the three will die if they refuse to heed his warning. Prue, having had enough of this, screams, "No one can hurt us as much as you!" Prue squints as the camera sharply zeroes in on her face. How...anticlimactic. I'm so happy she eventually started flinging her hands around. The Teflon Dad flies backwards through the air and slams into a wall. He brushes himself off casually and takes his leave, murmuring that if Prue wanted him to go, she merely needed to ask. Oh, stow it, you martyr. Though I have to admit it's interesting that it's the men on this show who are so obnoxiously passive-aggressive.
Once he's gone, Phoebe snuffles and wails about how mean her big sister is. Shut up, git. Piper, with somewhat more control over her emotions, hisses, "Did you have to throw him so hard?" Heh. Piper wants to know why Prue had to resort to her telekinesis, anyway. "We could have just talked about it like normal people!" Prue, somewhat ashamed and more than a little misty-eyed herself, straightens her spine to counter, "We're not normal." Piper stalks off. Prue heads in the opposite direction. Phoebe clings to a door frame and weeps her way into commercial.
The "Beaumark." The Teflon Dad slumps into his suite and parks it on an armchair to fire up a cigar. The lights flash on, and The Wonder Trips emerge from an adjoining room to make with the menacing. "I was wondering when evil would rear its ugly head," Victor sighs. "Consider it reared," snarks Marshall. "I don't know what kind of people you're used to dealing with," he continues, "but I'd lay serious coin they aren't willing rip you into a thousand pieces and dance in your entrails." "Lay serious coin"? Christ. Between that phrase and the morphing appendages, whatever crush I'd been nursing for this guy has been sufficiently euthanized. Fritz steps up to the plate to bat some of his own threats Victor's way, but The Teflon Dad dodges each and every one of them. The only way The Wonder Trips can infiltrate the Manor is if they morph into his form, correct? Okay, we'll go with that. Well, after this evening's disastrous reunion, Victor's been banished from the Manor forever. There's no way Prue or Piper would allow him, or anything that looks like him, in the door. However, there is one dimwitted, harebrained little life support system for a pair of Fun Bags that Victor can still manipulate. Now, The Wonder Trips could carry through with their threats to eviscerate The Teflon Dad, but only he knows which "buttons to push" to get at Phoebe, right? So, do they have a new deal? Outwitted, The Wonder Trips acquiesce.
Manor, the following morning. A frosty silence greets Phoebe at the breakfast table, so she waves a white napkin around, asking for a five-minute truce. Prue and Piper reluctantly lift their eyes from their scrambled eggs to look at her. Phoebe hems and haws and eventually admits to the afternoon's premonition. Prue shakes her head in disappointment. Phoebe stammers that she kept the vision from her sisters because she selfishly did not want it to be true. However, she now realizes the error of her ways and blah and can they ever forgive her and wah and Prue hugs her. Piper, sickened, turns away from the saccharine scene and spots Victor's chrysolite ring on the floor in the hallway. Okay, she's not really sickened, but I can't think of any other logical reason why she'd turn her attention away from the reconciliation. Oh, wait. The script told her to. Right. She retrieves the ring from the carpet, and Prue guesses that it must have fallen from The Teflon Dad's finger when she biffed him into a wall. She tells the others she'll have it sent to his hotel, and sets it on the much-to-be-abused marble-topped table in the hall.
Phoebe skips down the front steps to fetch the morning paper. She spots Marshall and Fritz lounging on the hood of their rusted-out, thirty-year-old Cutlass Supreme, and waves. No way those jackasses could have afforded that house. As Phoebe turns to head back into the Manor, Victor pops up behind her, warily eyeing the boys across the street while insisting that she speak with him. She resists, but he grabs her by her arms and pleads, "Look!" Phoebe flies into a premonition, which happens to be a continuance of her one. This time, when The Teflon Dad smirks and walks away with the Book, he morphs up into Marshall, who is immediately joined by Fritz and Cynda. The Wonder Trips grin maliciously. Phoebe zaps out of it and goggles at the neighbor boys, who have crossed the street on the pretext of ensuring Phoebe's safety. Phoebe pants and splutters and vows she's okay, but bolts back up the stairs without the newspaper. The Teflon Dad innocently inquires, "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"
Up in the Manor, Phoebe races through the main hallway, babbling to Prue that the neighbors are after the Book, not Victor, and that they must find a vanquish immediately. Cynda saunters in from the kitchen at this point with Piper to offer the Feebs some cookies. , Fritz wanders through the front hall, claiming the door was open. Finally, "Victor" strolls in, shouting, "Daddy's home!" Phoebe blathers an excuse and heads up to the attic on her own as Cynda shoots her an enormous and fake beauty-queen smile. That was redundant, wasn't it? Prue and Piper glance about at their unexpected guests.
Attic. Phoebe stumbles through the room and drops to her knees at a wardrobe, within which the gals have hidden the Book. She flips desperately through the pages, groaning, "I have no idea what I'm looking for!" The Book seems to hear this and begins riffling its pages of its own accord. Well, The Invisible Spectral Presence Of Grams begins riffling the wah wah wah. The Book lands on the following spell, which Phoebe mutters a few times to herself in order to commit the thing to memory:
When in the circle that is home
Safety's gone and evils roam,
Rid all beings from these walls.
Save sisters three -- now heed our call.
By the time Phoebe has rejoined Piper and Prue downstairs on the landing, the real Victor has entered the Manor to join Mictor in the front hall. Each attempts to convince the gals that he is The One True Teflon Dad. Victor finally orders Phoebe to say the spell, no matter the consequences. "But it'll kill everything in the house!" she moans. It will? Dude, where's Kit? Victor reminds her that he returned to San Francisco to save his daughters, so Phoebe should just go ahead and recite the damn spell already. Yeah, but what about the cat, you jackass? "After all," Victor adds, "I always wanted to go out with a bang." Oh, Phoebe. If you don't kill him, I will. Piper shouts something about the protection ring to Prue, who nudges the thing across the table to Victor with her eyes. When did Piper learn that the ring protected its wearer from spells? Whatever. It's almost over. Victor slips the ring onto his finger and once again orders Phoebe to recite the spell. She runs through it first on her own, then Prue and Piper join her to repeat it. Cynda immediately morphs into her Joan Jett form, while Marshall and Fritz remain pretty much the same. I guess they were more like The Wonder Twins than I initially realized, with Cynda of course being that frigging monkey. The force of the spell buffets Victor about, but the real damage hits The Wonder Trips. Their lower extremities begin to bubble and melt as they howl and wail and gnash their teeth. Eventually, the three as a group first melt into the carpeting, then vanish in a haze of smoke.
Cue the cheddar-flavored denouement. The Teflon Dad realizes that he no longer needs to protect his "little girls," as they've become more than capable of protecting themselves on their own. For they are strong. (Strong!) They are invincible. (In-vin-ci-ble!) They are WOOOO-MAAAAN! Shut it, Pops.
Later that day, Prue finishes up a phone conversation with Andy, begging off the Warriors game in favor of dinner with Victor, and thanking him for his advice regarding her "dad." Phoebe overhears this last bit and titters, "So, it's 'Dad' now?" Prue confirms this, and the Glamorous Ladies settle in to share with us The Lessons They Have Learned. Prue admits that, despite everything that's wrong with The Teflon Dad, he's the only father they have, so she has to learn to accept him on his terms. Or something like that. Phoebe understands that she shouldn't cling to her own "romanticized" version of their father, because that sort of thing is ultimately just as useless as Prue's overweening hatred. Or something like that. Piper's just glad he came back, even if it was for only one day. And that one was pretty accurate. Poor Piper. Ever the doormat, no?
The doorbell rings. Let's see. They've vanquished the demons of the week, and we've already had two rounds of Lessons They Have Learned. Who the hell could possibly be ringing their bell with six minutes left in the hour? Oh, shit. Piper answers and returns to the parlor with...him. "You must be Mr. Wyatt?" Prue asks. "Just call me Leo." No. No! I'll call you a fucking dolt is what I'll do, you ass. The Fucking Dolt hands Prue an envelope he found on the doorstep, then dolts on and on and on about the beautiful craftsmanship in the Manor and dear Lord, why? WHY? Phoebe gets horny, dry-humps the arm of the sofa, then offers to show him the "attic," if you know what she means. As the Feebs and the Dolt are about mount the stairs (ew), Prue calls Phoebe back to the parlor. Seems the envelope is from Victor. He's canceled their dinner date, as he had to "leave town on business." He did, however, include a videocassette in the envelope, noting that the tape contains some memories he cherishes that he'd like to share with the three.
Cut to Piper, Phoebe, and Prue nestled into a single overstuffed armchair, watching their younger selves on the television. The tape is of Victor's last Christmas with the family, and I'm going to assume that would have been in 1976, even though this would mean Patty's already pregnant with Raige. I don't know why I bother. Nailing down specific dates on this show is an exercise in futility, but then again, I have to get my exercise somewhere, don't I? Almost as futile an endeavor, apparently, is expecting a certain amount of casting continuity. The woman celebrating the holiday with the wee Ps? In no way resembles Finola Hughes. For one thing, her teeth are tiny. Velour abounds, and Victor sports mutton-chop sideburns, both of which are nice choices. By the way, Phoebe got a Barbie that year. That could explain a lot, couldn't it? The Glamorous Ladies wax nostalgic as we fade to black.