SunMoonStar is the Roy Scheider to my Richard Dreyfuss, scoring a last-minute direct hit on the air tank in the shark's mouth with her first-season videocassettes just before I lose a piece of my whiny, talent-free ass in the beastie's teeth. Though if this Jaws reference appeared before the recap of "The Wedding From Hell," SunMoonStar would be the Mourning Amity Mom who socks my Roy Scheider in the mouth with those same videocassettes out of spite. God, that episode sucked.
The evening opens with Prue and Phoebe perusing old photo albums on the Manor sun porch. We learn that Prue was quite the camera whore as a child, but the real story here is that Phoebe can't remember their mother, because Phoebe was a mere tot when Patty "Teeth!" Halliwell took The Swim That Needs No Towel. Piper flutters into the room, desperately searching for a pen and some paper. She scratches at what she calls "the candy drawer" in a marble-topped desk off to the side, but the drawer refuses to budge. Phoebe rises from her chair, bangs on the desktop twice, then rams her knee against the side of the thing. The drawer immediately pops open, clocking Foreshadowing in the jaw. No, I don't know what he was doing crawling around the sun porch on his hands and knees like that, but I'm sure he'll think twice before pulling similar stunts in the future. Piper exposits that she intends to leave a "Dear John: She's Dead" note for some "secret admirer" of Grams's, a gentleman caller who arrives on the same day every year bearing a bouquet of flowers. Piper's too much of a wimp to give him the bad news personally, you see. Unfortunately for Piper, the Cleansing Burst Of Synchronicity beats her to the punch by ringing the doorbell at that very moment to usher the gentleman caller in question through the front door. The ladies of the Manor cross to the foyer to greet him.
The gentleman caller, who bears a disturbing resemblance to Armistead Maupin, cradles a vase swathed in pink tissue and crammed with yellow roses. He's also at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest of the Ps and as broad as all three of them lashed together, making me wonder why the gals are so nonchalant about allowing him into the house. As the grandfather clock in the parlor chimes the hour, the gentleman caller extends the vase towards Piper, clumsily dropping it towards the floor in the process. Piper shrieks and freaks and freezes him. "Every. Year!" Piper yowls, plucking the vase from the air as the clock continues to chime. "At least this year I can freeze him so I can spare myself the clean-up." Yeah, like he's not going to notice any of that, you scatterbrained dingbat. Proving my point, the gentleman caller slides out of his freeze to purr, "I only heard five chimes." "It's noon," he continues. "That means you froze me, which means you have your powers at last." It could also mean the damned clock's on the fritz again, but whatever -- the gentleman caller advances menacingly as Piper, wielding the fluffy pink vase like a club, warily backs into her sisters' arms, babbling all the while that she hasn't a clue what he's talking about and ordering him to leave. The gentleman caller ignores her, choosing instead to slide a ring onto his finger while he slides his tongue into the exposition's ear. "Call me Nicholas," he slithers as his aged Armistead face morphs into a younger Rutger Hauer face. "After all, your mother did." On this very date twenty-four years earlier, he tells them, Patty "blessed" his ring in exchange for her life. Nazi Nicky's now immune to the Glamorous Ladies' powers and may steal those powers for himself, becoming "invincible" in the process. In a bit of business that should not amuse me at all, Prue squints repeatedly at Nicky to test his claim. Heh. Nicky does not hurtle backwards through the hall, nor does he refreeze when Piper again flings out her hands. Phoebe's paralyzed by something approximating fear, and stands mutely by while her sisters exhaust themselves with all the squinting and flinging. Finally, Nicky extends his beringed fist in their direction and helpfully narrates that his demonic mojo is overheating their internal organs, as the Glamorous Ladies drop to the carpet one by one to flop about like asphyxiating guppies. Phoebe somehow manages to boot the back of Nicky's knee, and he comes crashing to the floor, temporarily halting the supernatural organ roast. The gals scamper up the stairs to the attic.
Once they've bolted themselves in, the three crowd around the Book of Shadows. Phoebe flips through the pages and lands upon what she deems an appropriate spell simply by glancing at its title, which reads "To Unbind A Bond." Meanwhile, Nazi Nicky's recovered from his spill down in the main hall and leaps screaming to his feet to give chase. Back in the attic, Phoebe recites the following while her sisters huddle close on either side of her:
The bond which was not to be done --
Give us the power to see it undone,
And turn back time to whence it was begun.
A swirling cloud of glowing golf balls engulfs the Glamorous Ladies to whisk them away and...deposit them right back where they started out. Piper flicks a frustrated jazz hand by her face all, "Is that all there is to an unbinding spell?" while Prue snorts, "Nothing happened!" Down in the Manor proper, a phone rings. The gals hesitantly edge to the door and ease it open. They expect a raging Nazi warlock to greet them on the other side, but they find nothing more than air. Below, a woman answers the ringing phone. The Ps glance suspiciously at each other before Piper pushes Prue through the door for some reconnaissance.
Prue tiptoes onto the landing, gazes down the stairwell into the main hallway, and finds herself staring at Grams, who's clad in one of her trademark caftans with the receiver glued to her ear. There's a lava lamp on the telephone stand. "Well, Donna," Grams airily lockjaws into the phone, "I'm just hurt that you'd suspect my little angels of doing such a thing!" Heh. Two sprogs dart past on their way to the sun porch. Grams pauses in her conversation with this Donna woman to warn Wee Prue and Wee Piper not to run in the house. Prue wigs and darts back into the attic. "What'd you see?" Piper whispers. "Us," Prue replies. Piper and Phoebe's eyes bulge all the way into the opening credits.
Opening Time Travelogue, accompanied by a Me Generation ovary wailing "Don't Wanna Let You Go." Given tonight's Little Orphan Phoebe shtick, the song's title is decidedly anvilicious, but the song's content, involving as it does a woman and her wayward lover, seems more than a bit strange and off-putting. The only anachronism I spot among the shots of oil embargo angst, ankle-strapped cork-soled pumps, and Mod Squad reruns on console televisions is a CGI'd theater marquee advertising Jaws -- a movie that wouldn't open for another four months from the date featured in this episode. Over on Prescott Street, a variety of hideous mid-seventies station wagons lines the road. Up in the attic, our intrepid gals process through the implications of a live Grams and a pair of wee Ps in the parlor below. Piper refuses to believe they've landed in the past, instead supposing they "brought the past to [them] accidentally." Prue tells her to get real. The attic contains a few bargain-basement cultural artifacts from the 1970s -- a boxed-up black light, a manual Royal typewriter, a couple of battered eight-track cassettes, and a "pet rock" -- that the Glamorous Ladies threw out years ago. Pity the props department didn't have the budget to dredge up some truly depressing mid-seventies trash for the attic, like Betty Ford. Piper shoots Prue a disbelieving side-eye, then grunts, "I'm getting a migraine." Phoebe snarks something about living in a pre-Advil world before noting that the spell she just recited is nowhere to be found in the Book of Shadows. Wherever -- or, more accurately, whenever -- they are, it's before the spell was written. They also have no Book-approved method of returning to their own time, so Phoebe would like to be the first to announce that the Glamorous Ladies are screwed. Prue makes an unfunny regarding her crappy grammar, particularly as it relates to time travel and verb tenses, and suggests that they head downstairs to explain the situation to Grams. Phoebe warns against this, claiming that Grams would likely have enormous problems accepting a trio of time-traveling descendants. Oh, she would, would she? Given her abilities and experience, don't you think Grams would be the perfect person to rely upon regarding...oh, you know what? Screw it. Just go with it. Piper presents a better argument against invading the Manor's lower reaches: Grams's heart condition. The implication is, of course, that should Grams see how badly her grandchildren turned out, the shock would strike her dead where she stands. Or something like that. Prue pffts and announces that they'll fabricate some other plan once they've escaped the house.
Prue, Phoebe, and Piper sneak onto the landing. Downstairs, Grams has received another call. It's Patty, and apparently she's frantic, for Grams repeatedly orders her to calm down. "Mom," Prue breathes. Phoebe looks stricken. "A premonition?" Grams snorts into the phone. "You don't have premonitions." Prue confirms that Patty and Piper's powers were one and the same as Piper herself tiptoes over to the upstairs extension to eavesdrop on the conversation. After a bit of half-hearted hissing over invading Grams's privacy, Phoebe and Prue leap to join Piper at the receiver. Snicker. "I felt a twinge in my stomach," Patty claims, "and then bam! I saw it -- three women, warlocks, and one of them was taking Prue!" While Grams mutters some unintelligible reassurances into the phone before ringing off, Phoebe wonders if Patty's mysterious premonition was of the Ps themselves. Prue's all, "Whatever! Let's go." Piper replaces the receiver in the cradle, and the three women creep down the stairs.
As the three reach the main hallway, Wee Prue clomps onto the sun porch in her bitty Mary Janes, followed immediately by an overall-clad Wee Piper. In a terrible piece of blocking, Wee Prue stops short and glances over at the off-screen kiddie wrangler, allowing Wee Piper to round awkwardly past her towards the parlor. The off-screen kiddie wrangler makes huge blinking gestures in front of her face by snapping her fingers open and closed. The child portraying Wee Prue obligingly bats her eyes, nodding her entire head as she does so like she's some pint-sized Barbara Eden. A toddler-sized sofa skitters across the floor to block Wee Piper's path into the parlor. "No-ah fay-yuh!" Wee Piper chants. "Yoo-zin' maa-jick!" Oh, Lord. Okay, even I am forced to admit that these two little girls are adorable. Well, Wee Piper is, at any rate -- Wee Prue looks like someone found a three-foot-tall frog and slapped it into a pair of red tights and a wig, and while I'm insulting one defenseless little girl, I might as well note that there's actually quite a bit of the vole thing going on around Wee Piper's face, but anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. However. I hate child actors. Hate. Them. I hate child actors so much, I want some Hell-sent, fire-breathing, Flaming-Ball-Of-Death-flipping dark demonic force to materialize on the set and abscond with these admittedly-adorable-if-somewhat-frog-and-rodent-like wee ones to some impossible-to-find nether region of the Underworld for the remainder of the episode. I don't want them to die, see; I just want them far, far away from my television screen so I don't have to recap lisping, winsome, precocious, dewy-eyed moppets who can't. Freaking. Act. Not that they should be able to act -- I mean, God forbid there be any child on this planet so warped that he or she actually could toss out a believable performance, because how fucked up would that kid be? Tatum O'Neal, anyone? Yeah, so. Wee Prue? Wee Piper? Nice meeting you. Now go away.
"Whoa!" Piper spits as the camera cuts over to the shocked Ps for a round of reactions. There's a tight shot of Phoebe and Prue gaping a bit in disbelief. While Alyssa Milano and Shannen Doherty look nothing like sisters, they're simply radiant in this scene. Yes, you heard me correctly: Alyssa Milano and Shannen Doherty are gorgeous. What the hell happened to these poor women during the run of the show? Anyway, Prue's stunned to realize that they had powers back in the day. Phoebe opts for the simple yet evocative "Freaky" to describe this latest development. The adult Ps sidle onto the sun porch, and Prue kneels to grin at her wee counterpart. Wee Prue stretches out her index finger to touch the mole beneath Prue's right eye. Prue giggles and says, "You've got one, too," before wrapping Wee Prue in a hug. It's sweet moment, except for, you know, the goddamned child actress and everything. Grams sweeps into the room from the kitchen, takes in the scene, drops the plate she'd been drying to the floor, and glares as only Grams can. She flings out some Hands Of Discontent that make Piper's crawl under a rock in shame, and growls, "Warlocks, begone!" The adult Ps cringe defensively and Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that's a crappy blue-screen effect. Alyssa Milano, Shannen Doherty, and Holly Marie Combs, clearly perched on a set of appropriately-painted stools, lean back and flail their arms around while the camera tilts from side to side. Some hack has then taken this footage and superimposed it over a rapid tracking shot that takes us through the parlor and out the front door. I've lost count of how many lousy effects I've seen during the run of this series, but if this one isn't the very worst, it's easily among the worst three. Grams glowers magnificently while the two inept child actresses smile at their off-screen wrangler.
The thwarted Ps scramble down the front steps and across the street, processing as they go. Neither Piper nor Prue recalls having powers at that age, but all three agree that "Grams is one scary witch." Phoebe snatches up a neighbor's newspaper, checks the date, and gasps. "Mom is barely pregnant with me!" Piper and Prue crowd around for a look at the masthead and discover they've hurtled backwards through time to March 24, 1975. Heh. I seem to recall that right around then, my Prue-aged younger sister dented my skull with a Tonka truck. To be fair, I did whack her repeatedly in the head with a broomstick, but that was only after she'd sunk her teeth into my forearm in a valiant attempt at unsanctioned amputation. Maybe I shouldn't have shoved her off the kitchen table. I wonder why our parents didn't abandon us on some rain-swept hillside to die. Though perhaps if Wee Prue had TKed the tiny sofa into Wee Piper's tiny head, I'd have found that last scene bearable. Anyway, Piper checks the date and realizes that they've arrived on the same day Patty blessed Nicky The Nasty Nazi's ring. The gals must prevent their mother from entering into a pact with Nicholas if they are to return to their proper place in time. As Patty's now on the lookout for three female warlocks, Prue proposes that two of them approach their mother and prove their identities through a subtle display of powers. Phoebe immediately agrees and suggests she be the one to hang back, as telekinesis and molecular manipulation make for better calling cards than premonitions. She'll stand guard outside in the likely event that Nicholas appears. "That doesn't seem fair," Piper says. "Not being able to see Mom." "I know it's not," Phoebe stammers, fluttering her hands dismissively. "But I got over that a long time ago. I don't need to see her now." Piper and Prue raise uncertain brows, silently wondering if Phoebe understands the opportunity she's denying herself. With a grin and a self-deprecating snicker, Phoebe insists that she's fine. She notes that time's a-wasting, so they'd better head to their mother's restaurant before Patty's shift ends. Piper and Prue hesitate for a moment, then nod their heads. And there you have it, folks, in two simple scenes. Proof that once upon a time, Phoebe Halliwell was not the selfish, self-serving, self-aggrandizing, hideously coiffed, malnourished, bony-ass hag she'd become by the fourth season. Oh, Season One Phoebe! Why have you abandoned us?
A short time later, Phoebe's stationed beneath a marquee advertising daily matinees of The Stepford Wives as Prue and Piper enter a festive diner called Buddy's across the street. Despite its name and location, Buddy's does not appear to be a gay bar slash restaurant like Hamburger Mary's in San Diego or, well, Buddies in Chicago. What this Buddy's does have in common with its Chicago namesake, however, is an all-Cher, all-the-time soundtrack, for as Prue and Piper ease unobtrusively through the front door and squeeze into a booth, the timeless diva herself wails out "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves." Heh. The production staff used to have a sense of humor, didn't they? Though I swear to God, Cher pops up in so many of these damn recaps -- either through her actual appearance on the show or through a series of Satanic associations -- she should be paying a promotional fee. Anyway, Prue and Piper run through their plan while Little Orphan Phoebe crosses the street to lurk just outside, peering plaintively through the window. Piper scans the restaurant, then softly whimpers, "Prue?" The camera cuts to a Prue-and-Piper POV of the restaurant interior for a thirty-second slow-motion glamour shot of Finola Hughes drifting through the swinging kitchen door in a brown-and-yellow polyester uniform, toting three glasses of Coke in an expertly casual waitress carry. Methinks Finola has some service industry experience under her belt.
Prue waxes nostalgic for the nights after their father had abandoned the family and the debt-laden Finola, reeking of kitchen grease, would drag herself back to the Manor after another grinding, thankless, endless shift to kiss Prue goodnight. Only Prue romanticizes it considerably more than I just did there. Prue and Piper blather about Phoebe's lack of Mom memories as Finola ambles over, brightly asking if they're ready to order. Piper and Prue gawp. Finola, clearly misinterpreting their glazed, slack-jawed expressions as the aftereffects of years of wicked marijuana abuse, smiles and tells them to take their time while she handles another order. Piper finally yelps, calling Finola back to the table. There's some endless stammering and dithering from the gals, during which they do not introduce themselves to their mother and Finola grows increasingly wary of the blithering potheads in her station. Piper eventually flicks out her manipulative jazz hands. Nothing happens. Piper flicks them once more with greater vigor. Again, nothing. Piper tries a few more times before ordering Prue to squint at the water glasses. Prue complies, but her powers have also skipped out for a smoke break. They foolishly settle on blurting something about Finola's percolating infant. Finola shoots them a blistering side-eye, wondering just who in the hell they think they are. Prue natters that they're long-lost Halliwell cousins from out of town, and they have important news regarding Finola's fetus. Finola fixes them with an icy glare and states, "Not that this is any of your business, but I can't get pregnant anymore. It's medically. Impossible." She spins on her sensibly shod heel and flounces off to accept a phone call. Prue and Piper beat themselves up over their abject stupidity for a moment before attempting to puzzle out their mutual power failure. Piper guesses that only one version of Charmed Ones possesses the associated powers at any given point in time. What the hell, huh? Makes as much sense as anything else on this show.
Over at the phone, Finola's horrified to learn that Grams prevented the mysterious premonition warlocks from abducting the Wee Ps, like, what took Grams so long to call Finola at work? Was the Manor stuck sharing a party line with the neighbors back in 1975? Finola grabs her purse and sweater and ditches the rest of her shift to head back to the Manor.
Outside, Finola blindly barrels straight into Phoebe on the sidewalk, spilling the contents of her bag. Phoebe apologizes profusely and stoops to help Finola retrieve her belongings. Little Orphan Phoebe gets a good look at Finola's face and quietly realizes that she's just been body-checked by her own dead mother. Finola smiles kindly and confesses that she can be "such a klutz sometimes." "Really?" Phoebe bleats. "Me, too." Aw. There's a genetic explanation for Phoebe's stupidity! I wonder if she's eligible for disability. After a bit more of this, Nicky The Nasty Nazi suddenly appears behind the Feebs, all done up in police drag. I'm assuming it's a disguise. He officiously asks if everything's all right as Phoebe gapes in alarm. Finola assures him she's fine, thanks Phoebe for her assistance, and scurries over to her gas-guzzling boat of a sedan. Phoebe mumbles something to Nasty Nicky about directions to Berkeley, but he just shoves her into a stucco wall and stomps towards his cruiser. Phoebe coolly sucker-punches him, flings his car keys across the street, and darts into the diner. Okay, so the cool sucker-punch is actually a doofy yodeling karate kick to his back, but I like my version more. Phoebe hastily informs her sisters of the warlock's presence while dragging them out of their booth towards the restaurant's back door. The Glamorous Ladies vanish just as The Nasty Nazi storms through the front entrance to glare his Teutonic way into the commercial break.
As our intrepid heroines wander up Prescott Street, Phoebe hesitantly admits that her run-in with Finola unexpectedly left her feeling "overwhelmed." Piper quickly steers the topic of conversation back to the issue at hand -- namely, how will they battle Nasty Nicky when none of them has access to their powers? Phoebe grins slyly and suggests kidnapping the Wee Ps. Right, honey. Kidnap a couple of talent-free toddlers so you can send them into battle against a hulking wall of Aryan evil. That'll work. Not.
Manor kitchen. The adult Ps slink through the back door and crouch down beside a vent. Phoebe pops the damper, and their mother's voice floods the kitchen. Phoebe used to eavesdrop on her sisters through the heating ducts all the time, you see, especially when Prue "used to sneak Andy up to [her] bedroom in high school." Ew! EW! She listened to Prue and Andy having sex? What is wrong with this woman? God! Any-way, Prue snarls at Phoebe for a bit before ordering her to remain at the vent while she and Piper retrieve the toddlers. Phoebe's all, "Right-o, sis!" Pervert.
Over on the sun porch, the Wee Ps tussle over a doll. Wee Prue eventually TKs the thing into her own arms, leading the Twee Ps to snipe at each other regarding who really owned the toy in question. Wee Prue spots Twee Prue and burbles, "You came back!" "You're pretty," she adds, addressing her elder self. "So are you," Prue grins in reply, caressing Wee Prue's face. Piper rolls her eyes and grimaces, "Oh, give me a break!" Right there with you, Piper.
Meanwhile, Phoebe listens in on the good-natured dispute Grams and Finola are having upstairs regarding Finola's intention to meet Victor at his hotel that evening. Grams urges Finola to dump the deadbeat louse once and for all. After all, she argues, "if husbands were meant to stay married, God would've made them live longer." "Mother!" Finola sing-songs, clutching her pearls. Phoebe snickers.
Back on the sun porch, the Twee Ps urge the Wee Ps to trust them. Piper proves that they're all part of the same big, happy family by knocking the secret candy drawer open on the marble-topped desk. Pretty paltry pay-off for something so diligently established in the pre-credits sequence, if you ask me. Whatever. It convinces the Wee Ones to follow Prue and Piper into the kitchen. Just then, Wee Andy barges through the dining room in a regrettable cowboy outfit, toy guns at the ready, ordering the gals to freeze. It's supposed to be one of those ham-fisted soul-mating moments that indicate Prue and Andy were Meant To Be, but since both the parties involved ended up in the morgue, it's now pretty pointless. Wee Piper, following Western Stampin' Andy's instructions, promptly freezes both the Twee Ps and the unfortunate future detective. Phoebe scampers in from the kitchen to warn her sisters that Grams and Finola are heading downstairs. She takes in the frozen tableau and gulps.
Finola clomps into the hallway with a floral-patterned silk blouse slung over her shoulder on a hanger while Grams regally descends to the landing behind her, threatening to teach the Wee Ps a particularly nasty new spell if Finola insists on keeping her dinner date with their absentee father. Wait a minute. Does Finola intend to change in her car? Ugh. Finola pauses to snark something about baking cookies like normal people and blah, leading Grams to shoot something back about their Wiccan heritage and wah before huffing back upstairs. Finola blows on out of there after tossing a couple of air kisses in the Wee Ones' direction. Once she's gone, Piper and Prue unfreeze and make "guh?" noises while Western Stampin' Andy wonders where the hell Phoebe came from. Where indeed, Western Stampin' Andy. Phoebe hustles the gals out to the kitchen. When Western Stampin' Andy attempts to follow, Piper has her Mini-Me freeze his gender-stereotyped ass so the ladies can make their escape.
Grams breezes through the dining room with a laundry basket and chuckles when she spies Western Stampin' Andy stuck in his freeze by the sun porch. She smiles something about the "poor thing" forgetting all about the incident as she waves her hand in front of his face. Oh, Andy. Having your brain repeatedly pickled by a coven of witches had to have sucked. Death must have been a sweet release. When Western Stampin' Andy snaps out of it, Grams inquires as to the whereabouts of the Wee Ps. "I think the strange ladies took them," Andy dutifully replies. Grams panics and races out onto the front porch in time to see the Ps motoring off in Finola's boat. I'm not even going to bother wondering why Finola didn't already leave with the goddamn thing to see Victor, okay?
Over in a public park -- a public park -- Prue and Phoebe have the Wee Ps practice freezing and TKing a beach ball. With a gaggle of Asian ladies practicing tai chi in the background. Morons. Piper arrives from the pay phone, so the Twee Ps send the Wee Ps out of the frame in order to indulge in a bit of hasty plot development. Piper's discovered that Finola's at work until five, and Nazi Nick's shift doesn't end until six. So, he's a real cop then, huh? And how exactly did Piper learn Nicky's work schedule when she doesn't know his last name? Feel free to answer at your leisure. I'm not going anywhere. Heh. Just had a thought. What if his name is Nicholas Nastinazi? No wonder he became a demon. As Phoebe wishes she could spend more quality time with Finola, a couple of black-and-whites pull into the parking lot. About fifteen officers emerge to arrest the Twee Ps. Prue gapes.
Victor's Purported Hotel. Finola wanders through the hall searching for the deadbeat's room, and wow. She's sporting that black button-down, low-cut, long-sleeved blouse with the floral accents over a simple, sleek black skirt, and she looks fabulous. Shame about the teeth. Kidding! Finola enters Victor's darkened room, calling out his name. Officer Nicholas Nastinazi appears in Victor's stead to slam Finola into a wall, snapping a pair of handcuffs around her wrists so she can't freeze him. That doesn't stop spunky Finola from kneeing him in the groin, however. Nasty Nick doubles over in agony as Finola bolts for the door. Nicky recovers to fling his organ-searing mojo at Finola, and she sinks to the carpet. Nicky exposits that he intended only to off Finola and steal her power, but then he discovered that she's the mother of the Charmed Ones. He tapped the Manor's phone, you see, and realized that Finola's earlier premonition must have originated in the percolating infant she's carrying. Finola pleads for her daughters' lives and whatnot as Nicky retrieves his pre-credits ring from a box hidden in a dresser. "There is another option, Patty," he sneers, wiggling his ring by his face. Yeah, numbnuts. You could off Grams, Finola, the Wee Ps, and the percolating infant, thereby eliminating the need for that stoopid contrivance you've got in your hand. Whatever! Why are all of these demons idiots? If I were running Hell, these ladies would have been toast before the half-hour mark in the series premiere.
Over in what will eventually become Trudeau Memorial, Formerly Andy's House Of Beef, Formerly The Loneliest Precinct House In The World, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe cool their heels in a holding cell with a couple of prostitutes. Heh. A-heh heh heh heh. Piper bitches about their dire predicament as Phoebe finally behaves according to character and makes the entire situation all about her. She thinks that perhaps this setback is a blessing in disguise, as it might allow them more time with their mother. Perhaps they might even be able to prevent The Swim That Needs No Towel. Perhaps they were destined to remain trapped in the past, right? Right? Wrong! Thanks for playing, Feebs. Fortunately, Finola arrives at the lock-up just as I was about to start tossing ashtrays at the TV screen. Finola gets right to the point: "How did you know I was pregnant, and who are you people?" "We're your daughters, Mom," Phoebe bubbles. Finola glares. Piper and Prue bite their lips and avert their dual gaze into the oncoming commercial break.
And we're back. The Ps plus Finola cross through the station parking lot, scattering explanations, backstory, and exposition as they go. Finola gets misty-eyed, calling her daughters' trip through time a "miracle," and lovingly informs Phoebe that she was named for Finola's "favorite aunt." She's also forced to admit that she already entered into the pact with Nasty Nicky in order to save their lives, but assures them that, working together with Grams, they should be able to figure out a way to defeat him. "[Grams] is going to be so thrilled to see you," Finola coos. "The Charmed Ones!"
Cut to Grams in the Manor parlor, sneering, "Where was I born?" Hee! Grams is, of course, quizzing the gals to ensure that they're not warlocks. Prue smirks and replies, "Boston, in a hotel room. Breech." I'll leave it to you good people to hash out what Pre-Piper and Pre-Dan were doing in Boston at the time over in the forums. "What was my husband's name?" Grams asks, with an arched brow. "Which husband?" Prue counters. Grams then asks for information on Melinda Warren and the secret ingredient in her blueberry cobbler. Receiving satisfactory answers to both inquiries, she immediately demands, "What's IBM selling at in your time?" Atta girl. But you really should look into Microsoft. Just saying. Finola hisses, "This is not the time for personal gain!" Grams and Finola's subsequent back-and-forth bickering regarding proper investment strategies makes me giggle before Grams returns her attention to the Glamorous Ladies and beams, "I always knew I'd deliver the Charmed Ones." Finola chokes on her tongue. "Once removed, of course," Grams hastily adds. God, I love this woman.
Grams proposes binding the Ps' powers once Phoebe's been born in order to protect them all from Nazi Nick. This should buy them even more time to break the pact Finola entered into that afternoon. Prue slits her eyes in confusion and splutters something along the lines of, "Duh! You did that already!" Piper supposes this must be the reason none of them remembers having powers as children. Now it's Grams's turn to be confused. When, exactly, did her granddaughters receive the Power of Three? Just this year. Without the pact having been broken? Yep. Well, why would Grams have done something as asinine as unbinding their powers when the threat still exists? Unless she died, which of course would automatically...oops! Grams inhales, rises from her chair, spins around for a moment, then smiles and shrugs, "Guess I'm not going to make it to the millennium, huh?" Motor-mouth Phoebe prepares to drop the daisy cutter of doom on Finola's poor head as well, but Grams shuts her up. Finola and Grams mustn't learn anything more about the future; nor should the Glamorous Ladies attempt to alter their past. They were sent back in time for one purpose only. Should they tamper with the space-time continuum, chaos will erupt and the oceans will turn into blood and the Beast shall walk upon the Earth and cats will lie down with dogs and blah blah I already saw this in Back To The Future. Cut to the chase, ladies. Finola proposes un-blessing the ring in question. The Glamorous Ladies agree to ransack the hotel room for the offending piece of jewelry while Grams tosses together a bit of doggerel to send them back to 1999. Phoebe's surprised that Grams has the ability to compose so powerful a spell. "We're witches, dear," Grams blithely replies. "We can do anything." Yeah. Except dress yourselves. Ow! Who said that?
Nicky Nastinazi's Den Of Iniquity. Phoebe and Prue jimmy the lock and steal the ring. Scene.
Manor attic. The Ps pass the ring to Finola, who vows to break the blessing and return it to the hotel before Nicky realizes it's gone. Off to the side, Phoebe scrawls a quick note warning her mother to stay away from large bodies of water on February 28, 1978, and shoves it into the Book of Shadows. Our intrepid heroines say their weepy goodbyes and stand in the center of the room. Grams hurls a lit match into a smoking bowl and intones the following:
A time for everything
And to everything its place:
Return what has been moved
Through time and space.
Nothing happens. Finola offers an assist, and she and Grams clasp hands to recite the spell once more. They get a little verklempt as they reach the final line. A swirling cloud of glowing golf balls encircles the Glamorous Ladies, and they presently vanish. Finola and Grams brush stray tears from their eyes and beam at each other. "You did well, Patty," Grams glows. "They're fabulous." "I just hope they're safe," Finola sighs fondly, hand to her heart. The swirling cloud of glowing golf balls rematerializes and deposits the Ps right back where it had picked them up. D'oh! "I told you to use poplar buds," Finola spits. "It was a perfectly good spell!" Grams howls. "I mean, it moved them through time!" "Yeah," Finola deadpans. "Ten seconds." Ha! Why these two weren't added to the regular cast years ago is beyond me. The five witches knock their heads together and realize they need the Power of Three. Unfortunately, as Phoebe notes glumly, it doesn't exist yet. Looks Of Concern all around as we head into the final commercial break.
Back in the attic, Finola stumbles upon a cunning plan. The Power of Three does indeed exist in 1975, in the form of the Wee Ps and the percolating Feebs. If they can teach the hateful child actresses the spell, and if Finola taps into the percolating infant's power, they should be able to boot the Glamorous Ladies back into their own time. Unfortunately, Nicky The Nasty Nazi chooses this moment to barge into the Manor below, clad in a tan leisure suit and bellowing for his freaking ring. Damn. I haven't seen an outfit that hideous on a man since Fran Tarkenton was hosting Monday Night Football. Grams orders Finola and Piper to fetch the Wee Ps while she takes care of the Nazi with Prue and Phoebe. Phoebe lags behind for a moment, having second thoughts about her note. She finally swipes it from the Book of Shadows, tucks it into her back pocket, and joins the others on the stairs.
Grams hurls a mighty bit of TK into Nasty Nicky's leisure suit, so much does his outfit offend her eye. The warlock vanquishes the dining room table with his polyester-bound ass. Prue warns Grams about Nicky's organ-searing mojo, and suggests that she head back to the relative safety of the attic to work on the spell with the hateful child actresses. Grams disappears, and Phoebe and Prue bounce into the dining room to give Nicky a taste of shoe leather.
Up in the attic, Finola has the hateful child actresses recite the spell. Hey, if they lisp their simpering way through the verse, will the spell still work?
Meanwhile, back at the ass-kicking, Prue and Phoebe manage to demolish Grams's entire dining room set by breaking chair after chair over Nasty Nicky's back. Grams is so going to be happy when they're gone. The gals leave Nicky dazed on the floor and race back upstairs.
Once in the attic, Prue asks about the ring. Grams confirms that it's been un-blessed, but they haven't had time to test it. The good news is, 1999 time will resume exactly where it broke off for everyone involved, so Nicky The Nasty Nazi won't know if the ring works, either. While Prue's busy, oh, strategizing to save their lives in the future, Phoebe takes a time-out to snap a photo of Finola with the Wee Ps. Cow. They hastily bid each other goodbye once more as Nasty Nick hurtles up the stairs to attack. Finola and the Wee Ones recite the spell. The swirling cloud of glowing golf balls envelops the Ps, who vanish only to...
...reappear in their proper time frame. How do we know they're back in 1999? The director reversed the camera angle for the re-entry shot. The gals skitter over to the Book, and Phoebe frantically flips through the pages for a Nicky vanquish. The Nasty Nazi himself breaks through the door to threaten and sneer. Prue TKs him into a wardrobe. He rises almost immediately, but Piper freezes him. Meanwhile, Phoebe's found the "Nicholas Must Die" spell, which includes a "spell pouch at no extra charge." Thanks, Grams! Love ya! Piper and Prue futz with the spell pouch and a silver mortar while Phoebe recites the following:
Lavender, mimosa, holy thistle:
Cleanse this evil from our midst,
Scatter its cells throughout time --
Let this Nick no more exist!
Nicky The Nasty Nazi starts spinning around like -- well, a mirrored disco ball, really. He howls and moans before exploding into a spray of golden bits as a concussion ring bursts outwards through the room and his offending bauble drops harmlessly to the floorboards. "Wow," Prue blinks, holding the smoking mortar. "I'm really glad I never got on Grams's bad side." Wah. Wah. Waaaaaah!
Manor sun porch. Phoebe and Prue are seated with the pre-credits photo albums, ready for the Weekly Summation. Piper enters and places Nicky The Nasty Nazi's vase on the table. "What?" she asks in response to her sisters' silent, sullen glares. "I'm supposed to throw out perfectly good flowers because they came from a creep? If that was the rule, we'd never have flowers in this house." This segues into Phoebe admitting that she almost left a warning for Finola, because from the time the Feebs was tiny, every wish she made was for an opportunity to know the Teeth. Phoebe came to realize, however, that she "had to let go," so she decided to let her mother drown, scarring her eldest sister for life. Or something like that. Piper smiles indulgently as Prue rubs Phoebe's back and grins, "Maturity sucks, doesn't it?" Why are you asking her? Piper plucks a photo from the album and passes it to Phoebe. It is, of course, the one Phoebe snapped before leaving 1975. "It's a pretty good one of us," Piper opines, "but once again, Feebs, not a good one of you." "Are you kidding?" Phoebe cries. "That is the best picture of me I've ever taken!" The Glamorous Gals giggle as we fade to black.