Bride and Gloom

Last Thursday: Supersize Chandler and Supersize Joey played EZ Chair Roulette, that guy from Can't Buy Me Love got a jones on for Will, Molly Shannon scored the ten millionth Elizabeth-Taylor's-babbling-corpse-at-the-Golden-Globes joke of the week, and Kel got his beef-jerkied ass voted off the island-continent for being really kinda sorta hotbut just plain' ol' not hot enough. Sorry, beefcake. The tribe has spoken.

I just said Thursday. Network identification optional.

Heh.

Cough.

Tap tap tap. Earth? You out there? Anyone seen "Earth"? No? Sigh.

Oh, hello there. Demian couldn't be with us this week, sadly, so I will be taking over recapping duties in his stead. Bear with me, good people of MBTV. Tonight's episode ties my total viewings of Charmed with my total viewings of both Movie Stars as well as every manifestation of the WB's Zoe-oriented efforts to convince me that Selma Blair is anything less than a pushing-thirty hack who should play high school like Bea Arthur should play high school. All of which shouldn't matter too considerably, because if there's one thing I know about this show from Demian's recaps, it's that the first-time viewer probably still has a fighting chance of understanding the concept of "continuity" at least better than, say, the people who created it. Anyway. Bear with me. If you're looking for me, I'll be over here, repeatedly consulting the "P" page of my Kitschy Names For Witchy Sisters handbook, while the WB goes about making my Thursday nights accessible again with the upcoming premiere of Selma Blair's fourth ill-fated go-round, Zoe, Her Fired Agent, One Guy Dressed As A Pirate, And My Cat. Now that would be some Feb on the Frog right there.

This has been The Disclaimer Of The Ages. On with the show.

Halliwell Manor. Tony Micelli's Proudest Achievement (because, I mean, have y'all seen what's become of Danny Pintauro? Okay, actually I know more about that guy's life than I do about the lives of ninety percent of America's former Presidents, but that's a recap for another time) lies in bed, chowing down on popcorn and watching the black-and-white film spectacular, Kill It Till It Dies. Hey! I know stuff about that! From consulting that time-honored Charmed oracle of "Google search for 'Billy and Sally Mae'" and discovering it's from "Chick Flick." An instant classic, I assure you. Anyway, Phoebe all but wells up at Billy's assertion that he believes Sally Mae to be, in fact, "swell," and the two clasp hands and prance off into the woods. Theend? Damn. Not so much. Into the television frame appears a black-clad Dieter of a man with a touch-my-monkey turtleneck and a high-ranking spot in the Casey Kasem's Top Ten MBTV Foreheads countdown. But who is it? Uh-oh. Character identification snag #1. Phoebe sits up in bed. "Cole?" Thanks for letting me know, Pheebs! Cole smiles big as he walks toward the camera, informing Phoebe that this Pleasantville knock-off of an effect was acquired from the Demon of Illusion. She asks just what in the holy hell he's doing in the television, and he sets up the dramatic tension for the entire episode (the cautious first-time Charmed recapper will be sending Aaron Spelling a large sum of money in thanks, with the words "for services rendered in Jaw-Dropping Narrative Simplicity" scribbled on the memo line) with his response, "I wasn't sure how you'd react, but this is a safer way of letting you know I was back." Glacial pause. Not a particularly small glacier, either. "For good." Ugh. That's Cole? Demian, friend? You got yourself some explaining to do.

Opening credits: I am human. And I need to be loved. Ack! It's eighth grade! Run!

Justin With Very Large Teeth and my long-time girlfriend Heather Duke stand outside P3, Prue assuring Justin as if it's not the first time she's forced herself to say it inside of the last ten minutes, "I had a really good time tonight." Justin worries that she was ultra-quiet this evening, and Prue evokes the demon spirit of Conveniently Appearing Backstory with the very obvious lie that she has a lot on her mind, what with Piper getting married and all. Justin stage-directs a wan smile, belaboring her obvious lack of interest in him with the passive-aggressive, "If I was [sic] the paranoid type, I would think that it's because of me." Prue tells him not to be "ridiculous," but with his Billy-Bob Novelty Teeth Kit and a head so geometrically oval that Third World nations rely on it to note the changing of the solstices, Justin is about twenty-five years too late and a bit too genetically-encoded to have much of a choice in whether to be ridiculous or not. They plan to have lunch tomorrow; he'll pick her up at one. O'clock. At the house. He'll be there. Pay attention to that line. Foreshadowing certainly did, what with it square-dancing through the frame with Conveniently Appearing Backstory on his arm. Those two. Always together. Anyway, Justin's big teeth kiss Prue goodbye, taking with them her entire head and much of her upper torso, and he hops into his well-if-I-can't-get-laid-with-these-awesome-wheels Red Sports Car Of The Impending Midlife Crisis and drives off. Meanwhile, another black-clad man with a hairline that's so in the process of receding that it's receded even during the course of his skulking around outside of P3 (if I'm supposed to know who that guy is, well, I don't), watches the whole exchange from the shadows. Prue turns and makes for the inside of the club, taking off her coat and displaying the rump-side of her outfit to the world. Memo to the Charmed costume department: really tight pants the identical color of human flesh don't make you look hot. They make you look like a naked medical marvel born without a butt-crack. Gross? Uh-huh. True? Oh, my, totally.

Inside P3, Piper sits at the bar, feeling perpetually downcast about her pre-Charmed kitsch value rsum (I'm sure Picket Fences was a perfectly serviceable show, but if y'all think it equals the sheer ironic value of Who's the Boss or , you've been watching too much PAX-TVthat's all I'm sayin') when Prue breezes in. Piper pulls off a decent zing in telling Prue that ending a date before nine o'clock is "very Disney of [her]." She then sets about discussing the upcoming "wedding," and Conveniently Appearing Backstory, skulking in a stock room just off the kitchen, backs up into a crate of empty cans slated for recycling, sending them clanging to the floor and the needle screeching off the record while everyone runs to see what all the fuss was about. Careful now. Prue can't decide if she should invite Justin to this so-called "wedding," claiming that he has all of the qualities of a good-ish boyfriend, but that he's just so "predictable." Crash! Bang! Smash! Five-cent deposits roll past the sisters and out into the street. The Receding Hairline Bad Guy from outside skulks in the background. Prue explains further that her relationship with Justin lacks "mystery," which she defines as "savoir-faire," which can be translated directly to mean "mystery" much in the same way it can be translated directly to mean "cream-filled donuts." That being not at all. Prue pulls out a lip gloss and applies it liberally, and Conveniently Appearing Backstory douses itself in rouge and blush, because it wants to look good for its close-up too. Last time I watched Shannen hanging out with Conveniently Appearing Backstory on such a regular basis, they were both wearing shoulder pads and a Benetton blouse. Such as it was in the early nineties. But make no mistake about it. This coupling is rich with history. Leo, sitting to Piper, is allowed a sentiment in edgewise, claiming that a simple, private wedding is the way to go. Piper retorts with excess hand gestures that his play for a nice, quiet wedding, one which actually comes with the vague possibility of some actual romance, is in vain. She stands up from her stool and warns of a meeting with "the wedding planners" tomorrow morning, and she cautions him, "No getting out of it, no orbing out of it, nothing. Don't even try it." Piper makes her way to the bathroom. Receding Hairline Baddy, looking completely inconspicuous while skulking outside the woman's bathroom, waits for Piper to disappear behind the closed door before stepping into the middle of the room (very coy) and morphing into Piper. And, given the choice between the receding hairline and Holly Marie's Pippi-Longstocking-by-way-of-Helen-Keller-at-a-slumber-party braids, I would probably have to go ahead and pick, well, umrecapping Roswell, I guess. Have I mentioned I've never seen this show before?

Back at the bar, Leo frets further about the wedding, conscious of the difficulty in trying to plan a "normal" wedding "when a ghost'll be presiding and the groom's dead." There's an Anna Nicole Smith joke in there somewhere, but I'm still figuring out names here, so let's keep to the basics, shall we? Prue labels the whole thing a "Cinderella" complex, claiming that, as the oldest, she's the one who's supposed to get married first. Gee, who poured Prue the tall, frothy mug full of Ale About Me? Because a second ago they were talking about Piper. And then not so much. Anyway, "Piper" makes her way back over to the bar and asks to borrow Prue's lipstick, grabs it and runs, then returns to the back room and re-morphs into Receding Hairline Baddy. Apparently there's something about this process of shapeshifting that requires the shifter smile in a very, very sinister manner. Receding Hairline looks around and disappears. That shade's gonna look awful on him. As it does, come to think of it, on anyone with the ability to perceive color.

And, back at the bar, Conveniently Appearing Backstory is strumming an acoustic guitar and singing the "second verse, same as the first" line of its favorite folk tune, "I'm Conveniently Appearing Backstory, I Am," when Leo ventures, "Speaking of Phoebe, don't you think it's time you let her off the hook a little? I mean, she came clean about Cole." Prue bitches that a person can't lie about vanquishing a demon and expect to get away with it without enduring the arduous "So You Say You Lied About Vanquishing A Demon" twelve-step program, but Leo defends her and claims that he's sure Phoebe doesn't want Cole around anymore. Prue says that won't stop him from trying to kill them again. Leo raises an eyebrow. Conveniently Appearing Backstory has not picked up so much as one damned can.

Cut to a dreary outdoor set with burning candles and wind chimes and general faux-underworldly spirituality. As Mark Burnett pulls out a tape measure and relabels the soundstage "Tribal Council, Survivor XXXVII: The Transylvanian Foothills, Receding Hairline Baddy kneels down at the altar and inhales deeply. From seeming nowhere appears an Asian woman who Receding Hairline Baddy (someone wanna throw this guy a name, please) refers to as "Dantalian. Princess Dantalian." He bows. She's important. He hands her the lipstick he poached from Prue, and Dantalian clarifies, "You're sure this has touched her lips?" Yes. Yes, it has. Receding Hairline Baddy asks what benefits Dantalian stands to reap "by making Prue Halliwell [his] wife?" She responds that, as "a humble servant of the Source, Zile," all she gets is the pleasure of a job well done in turning good into evil. Oh, and also the Book of Shadows. Dantalian prepares an immunity-challenge kind of stew with some chicken broth and a live scorpion and a dab of the gloss while continuing to blaze a trail of exposition about the BoS. Save it for the pilot episode, sister; even I know what that is. So her plan is to turn Prue evil, which will turn the sisters evil, which will turn the book evil, which will allow those with evil access to it. But Receding Hairline Baddy's first chore is to lure Prue to the tribal council site, and Dantalian rubs some potion on his lips with the explanation, "Getting the witch here so I can perform the ceremony. That's what this potion is for. Kiss her and it paralyzes her. After I bind you in marriage, she'll fall into a deep sleep, where the transformation to evil will occur." He kneels down before her. She puts the lotion on the lips. Zile? Is that his name? Soundsreceding. Of course.

Back at the Halliwell manor the following morning, two official-looking wedding planners we may never have seen before stand with clipboards and survey the place. Piper makes her way down the steps, noting, "The more traditional the better, as far as I'm concerned." That hardline traditional approach would probably preclude Prue from being allowed to continue wearing her awful pastel plaid patchwork of a button-down shirt in a "traditional" culture that prizes that which is "fashionable" over that which is "faint-inducingly fugly." No one's denying that the AIDS quilt is a very important, socially conscious tapestry; it just shouldn't be sported as knitwear. That's all I'm saying. Banter about trolls and other assorted invitees in the Halliwell's corral of freaks, until Wedding Planner John and Wedding Planner Jane move on to the business of how many guests they will be inviting. The wackiness continues when the witches and goblins keep trying to act like the Normal People in the room, and Piper mentions "mom" as a potential guest. Prue asserts, "I don't really think that you can count her." Wedding Planner John frets, "We have to! If she's going to eat!" Wedding Planner Jane for some reason knows that Mom has passed away, and Piper leaps in on damage control in assuring Wedding Planner Jane, "I just meant I hope she's there in spirit." Wedding Planner John agrees that "that doesn't count," and goes about callously crossing her name off his list. Oh, ha. All hail the well-heralded brusqueness of that oft-lampooned character known the world over as "the guy who plans weddings." The perfect wacky foil for comedic exploration. Martin Short's character from Father of the Bride scootches over ever so slightly to allow Wedding Planner John entrance into the canon. Anyway. Wedding Planners John and Jane move on to the topic of hors d'oeuvres, and the three pause for a moment until Leo calls out, "Pigs in a blanket!" The three crack up, while Wedding Planners John and Jane stand silent, thinking about how they drew the short straw down at Wedding Planner Inc., shifting uncomfortably in the face of this raging, cackling idiocy they cannot believe they've had the bad luck to encounter. John? Jane? I so feel you.

Ring. Prue excuses herself to answer the phone, and Piper hauls Leo outside for a small spat about the plans. He thinks the whole thing is "a disaster waiting to happen." Blah blah "we don't need wedding planners, we just need us." He frets about guests who wouldn't be particularly chill with "a Whitelighter marrying a witch." Back inside, Phoebe makes it down the stairs as Prue hangs up with "Justin" (nudge, NUDGE), who called with a message that his Midlife Crisismobile broke down and she should meet him at the restaurant. Prue stops Phoebe and asks if they can talk about the "Cole Situation." Phoebe leaves abruptly. Piper blathers on about the wedding again, but Prue tells her she has to go meet Justin, but first, "can I have my lipstick back?" But Piper never borrowed her lipstick. Wait. I don't follow. Just kidding. Because I'm not four and I get it.

Back at the Mausoleum, Phoebe runs in, frantic, calling Cole's name. He materializes in the corner, trying to look non-committal, and slimes, "I was beginning to think I was never going to see you again." She tells him that she only came back because she needs help, launching in accordingly, "Prue was taken. By a warlock." Again, thanks. Cole tells her and us that warlocks don't have the power to jumble the good guy's radar, and surmises he can't be working alone. He all but flips on an overhead projector exhibiting the playbook patterns the warlocks and witches are running, notated in Xs and Os for easier reference, furthering the contrivances, "Certain dignitaries have the power to shield their activities. Demonic judges, dark priests." So, basically anyone with a highfalutin' day job and a modifying adjective synonymous with "evil," then? I guess he left out the fact that "baneful politicians" and "flagitious comptrollers" are also capable of shielding their activities from the witches and each other? He continues, "Anyone who needs privacy for rituals." So, "nefarious diplomats" too, then? Cole surmises the plan has something to do with the Book of Shadows, says the word "book" fifteen times in a row, and claims he would offer to help, but he can't risk other demons finding out he hasn't been riding the front float in the Vanquished Parade for the past two months. Phoebe just wants her sister back. Cole: "No matter the cost?" Phoebe, again, a little bit slower and a little bit worse, repeats, "I want my sister back." I wonder if Danny Pintauro ever made her refer to him as her sister on the set. Cole leans in and adds with all due gravity, "I'm doing this for you." She takes a few steps toward the door, turning around suddenly and kissing him passionately in a very daytime-soapy kind of way. She apologizes, claiming, "I have no idea where that came from." He looks like the very notion of kissing a girl is beyond his realm of comprehension. I wonder if Danny Pintauro everokay, sorry. That's it. Just be glad I haven't made a Teen Steam joke yet. Cole goes all solemn: "Listen, if you don't hear back from meI got caught." By a "miscreant magistrate," perhaps?

Back at the manor, Piper flips through the Book of Shadows, turning to Leo to point out that the pages are changing. Leo notes that the "Hemlock Killing Spell" doesn't belong in there, and Piper takes the first step down her long road of pure evil when she smirks, "It does have possibilities." He starts to berate her, but stops abruptly when Piper disappears suddenly from the couch, reappearing a moment later in the kitchen. How insanely Barbara Eden of her. He follows her in and accuses her therein: "You blinked." She didn't, she claims. "Only warlocks do that." Phoebe walks back in, and Piper explains what just happened. Phoebe responds that it sounds "so cool," except for that fact that if we're going to blink something on this show into The Land Good Costuming Taste Forgot evermore, it should probably be the egregious knit one-button sweater vest with the blue Hawaiian lei trim Phoebe is now wearing. I'm cold too, but we're not going to feel the tropics by sewing their neckwear onto our tops, okay, Bahama Mama? Leo frets that blinking is "a warlock's power," and that it would be dangerous for them to try it ever, ever again, and Phoebe retorts that the dang warlocks are always stealing powers from them, so why not give it a try the other way around? Oh, and she wants to give it try, with the blinking. Piper tells her just to "think and blink." Phoebe disappears. And take the damn sweater with you. They both try it, and Leo chases them to the front porch of the house with the warning, "You're blinking. The book is changing. The book is changing because of you. It is an extension of you." Piper twitches and smiles, "I should care about that. But I don't." Which is totally, totally crazy that she said that, because since this episode started, I've somehow managed to type this recap with one hand while embroidering that very sentiment on a decorative throw pillow -- embossed with the Charmed logo -- with the other. Crazy.

Leo chases them back into the house, warning that they can't give into the powers of evil blah blee blarg, and Piper runs to answer a ringing doorbell. Leo tries to confide in Phoebe, "Lose the shirt, and not because I want what's underneath, either." Oh, crap. That's me. What he really leans in and confides is, "I need your help." Phoebe announces quite loudly and, I might add, rather amusingly, "I am so tired of helping people." Quite the far cry in personal responsibility from her days when all she wanted to do was help people who just "gotta let it out, gotta let it out." Oh, crap. There was the Teen Steam joke I promised y'all weren't going to hear. Just be glad I'm steering clear of Eva Savalot, then. We'll see how long that one lasts.

Hey, look! It's Wedding Planner John and Wedding Planner Jane! Leo tries to tell them that it's "not a good time." Dude. It hasn't been a good time yet. Piper, however, wants them to hang around, and Wedding Planner John launches in, "I have revisited the dinner menu, Piper, and you are going to be thrilled." Piper waves him off, smiling big and informing him, "I want pigs in blankets." John and Jane pause for a moment -- what a wacky pair! -- and crack up when they recognize that she's just kidding. But she's not. Piper clarifies, "No. I want pigs. And blankets!" She waves a hand in the air, and Wedding Planner John collapses on the ground and morphs himself right into a pig almost as ugly as the sweater she for some reason saw fit to bedeck the pig in, both of which (the sweater and the pig) possess one tenth of one percent the ugliness of Phoebe's aforementioned Bahama Mama ensemble. Wedding Planner Jane drops her planner and gawks in horror, and Piper says something about her being an "ice queen" before doing the freezy routine on her. Leo chides her again, but Phoebe tells him to "get on board," continuing, "You can't imagine the freedom, the power." Leo tells her that it's just evil talking, and Piper and Pheebs agree that Leo's acting like "a stick in the mud." Phoebe: "May I?" Piper: "Be my guest." And so she waves a hand, turning him into, quite literally, a stick. In mud. Wait. I don't follow. Not literal enough. Phoebe regrets "all the fun [they've] been missing," and as they make for the door, Piper tells her that "this is just the beginning." Meanwhile, back at Tribal Council, Dantalian pulls the veil back from Prue's face and repeats, "Just the beginning." For the love of God, someone. Please tell me that's not true.

And, back at the manor once more, evil. I mean, clearly. Pay attention, lay viewer. Phoebe brandishes an axe and heads toward the swine formerly known as Wedding Planner John (aim for the sister! The sister!), but hands it off to Piper in the good spirit of her wedding, suggesting, "Shouldn't the first kill be yours?" Piper takes the axe in hand, but then calls the whole thing "too boring," already desiring to move on to "something bigger." Piper surmises that if they're feeling strong and liberated and evil and ill-costumed, all this must be happening to Prue as well. They plan to make off and find her, but first they turn John and Jane into their wedding-planner selves once more and send them flying backward onto the street. They then turn to regard stick in the mud, turning it back into Leo (samedifference?) and telling him that they want to find Prue. Leo tells them that he's off the assignment because the girls gave in to evil, and that Piper "relinquished [her] right to a Whitelighter." He disappears. Sniff. I guess. Phoebe makes for the steps, and Piper asks where she's going. Phoebe makes it way too easy when she shoots back, "Well, I can't wreak havoc dressed like this," but the fiery tingling sensation that is the unmistakable pain of my corneas bursting into flames clearly begs to differ.

Phoebe enters her room and unties the string on the front of her sweater (apropos of nothing whatsoever, my roommate happened through the room when I watched this episode the first time and noted, "Finally, some cleavage, at least," which was a little VERY out of charactermaybe he too is evil?). Lurkily (not an adverb, you say? Yeah, well, it is now), Cole appears behind her in a corner. Phoebe makes with the nookie once more, asking, "Big bad Balthazor strikes again?" Cole responds that it's not anything he's proud of, and she tells him, "You should be." Kissy kissy. Cole tells her the wacky So I Married a Warlock subplot unfolding just across town, and Phoebe pulls off another pretty decent line with, "Figures that bitch would steal Piper's thunder." Heh. And, ew, because I just had to put on a windbreaker to keep myself from getting drenched by the amount of saliva oozing out of my television speakers at this moment. And, hi, lip-mic operator? Yeah. You've been given this speech before, I imagine. She asks if he wants her evil, and he pulls away in a big hurry and warns, "Our only chance is if we're both good." She tells him she's had it with the preachy human half, claiming she wants Balthazor back. Good. Fine. Move it along with conjuring his inner Boreanaz already and, also, move it along. Cole responds, "He's not coming back." So she kicks his ass onto the floor of her room, screaming, "I! Want! Balthazor!" So the Darth Maul make-up guy rises up to meet her eye to eye, just as Piper knocks on the door and asks about what's what inside. Balthazor warns, "Dantalian is coming for your book. Be ready." He disappears as Piper enters and asks if everything's okay. Phoebe warns that they'd better get going. And so they go.

Dantalian fusses over her happy horizontal couple, chanting away in Latin, when from behind her comes the swift, ass-kickin' boot of one Phoebe Halliwell, out for vengeance. Seemingly defeated, Dantalian looks up from the ground and offers to help the girls. "I can teach you evil. You're new at it. You don't know how to realize its full potential." Piper responds that they think they're getting the hang of it just fine, and move on to the torture and the questions about Prue's location. Isn't she, like, right behind them? Piper freezes one of the bitch's hands, and when she won't cough up any relevant information, Piper smashes it right off. Kick-ass, yo. Leo fades back in just at the moment, all hapless good guy in his untucked flannel shirt and t-shirt underneath. Dude, just orb your frat-ass self back to the Hootie concert from whence you came and let the rest of us get on with our lives. Don't forget your Cocks cap! He starts, "I just couldn't leave it that, Piper." The sisters' lack of concentration allows Dantalian to roll forward and disappear. Cole asks what's what with what, and Phoebe lets him know that he abetted her escape, and Piper reaches out a hand and turns her dude-man to ice. She turns to Pheebs and demands, "Smash 'im." Phoebe does a high kick and Piper's man, well, falls to pieces, off to chill with his other Whitelighter frat brothers at the Great Dave Matthews Show In The Sky.