First, a moment of silence in honor of Shannen Doherty. Yes, she’s become a walking punchline over the last ten years or so. But I have to admit, in many ways she helped make this show more watchable than it has any right to be. Have fun, hon. And if the rumors about your ouster at the hands of Alyssa Milano are true, I do hope you videotape the smackdown I’m certain you have planned for her. I’d pay to see that.
Right, then -- the season finale. Unlike every other episode I’ve seen, they waste not a second getting to the action. Prue, Piper, and Phoebe burst through the front door of the manor, dragging a bald doctor in a lab coat with them. Piper’s fairly certain the danger they face has passed for the moment. Phoebe agrees, as she believes “he” would have attacked the foursome long before they made it back to the house. The good doctor is confused, and wants answers. The sisters, however, are “too busy trying to save [his] life” to provide them at the moment. Prue admits to the good doctor that they “aren’t quite sure” who is after them. Piper whines about Phoebe not providing them “with enough time to figure it out.” Phoebe reminds Piper she “can’t control how far into the future [her] premonitions take place.” Prue cuts through the bickering to suggest that Phoebe head to the attic to check the Book of Shadows for more information on the “demonic hit man” the three are currently fighting. Piper adds that a vanquishing spell would be nice, if Phoebe has the time. She also warns Phoebe not to “get sidetracked by the Cole potion,” as there are more urgent matters at hand. Upon hearing Cole’s name, Prue glances over at Piper with a quizzical expression on her face. She waits until Phoebe has scampered up the stairs to ask Piper about it. Piper fills Prue in on the Colethazor’s excuse for frying Jenna the witch two weeks ago, which as you know is “Ian Buchanan made me do it.” Phoebe, apparently, is now determined to whip up another batch of Demon Be Gone. Prue’s surprised to hear this, as she’d been led to believe Cole was now firmly in Phoebe’s past. And where exactly have you been for the last couple of weeks, Prue?
Doc’s been taking this all in with open-mouthed incredulity. He finally finds his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?” Yes, Doc. Precisely. Now that he has their attention, though, he’s not going to shut up any time soon. “First, you tell me my life is in danger,” he blares. “Then you abduct me from work, and now you’re talking about witches and demons? Who the hell are you people?” Piper rolls her eyes as if to say, “The only problems with saving innocents are the stupid innocents themselves.” Prue gives Doc the shorthand version of what’s going on. He’s a “healer,” which means he does “good.” Either he’s already “saved too many lives,” or he’s about to help someone the dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell want dead. To prevent this, The Source has sent the aforementioned demonic assassin, a personal lackey of his named “Shax.” That’s a horrible name, but I expect nothing less from the “hax” who write these damn things. And that was a horrible joke. Let’s move it along then, shall we? Doc’s had it. He thinks this is all some sort of practical joke perpetrated on his undeserving self by his second wife. He’ll soon learn otherwise. Prue begins to explain that the evil they’re up against is very real, indeed. “Dr. Griffiths, this is anything but…” she starts, but cuts herself short when she feels a “chill” run through her body. She calls for Phoebe as the sound of a raging whirlwind amps up a bit on the soundtrack. Phoebe hollers back that she’ll be with them in a second. Too late. The DemonCam kicks in as we cut to a distorted shot of the front doors slamming open. The demon -- I’m guessing it’s this “Shax” person -- zips through the front hall in a tornadic cloud towards Piper and Prue. The cloud knocks the two sisters to the parlor floor, then flares out into the form of the demon himself. Oh, no. With the long grey wig, the grey body make-up, the tattered grey rags he’s wearing, and the dead leaves swirling around him, I’m waiting for this guy to bust out with the graveyard nightmare number from Fiddler on the Roof. Fruma-Shax here doesn’t look bright enough to memorize the words, though.
Damn. Now I have that song in my head.
Doctor Griffiths takes in this apparition from Hell and mutters, “Dear God.” [ablessingonyourhead–mazeltov!mazeltov!] Fruma-Shax swings his right arm around to throw what appears to be a violent energy shield at the Doc. Prue leaps to her feet and pushes the doctor out of the way. [toseeadaughterwed -- mazeltov!mazeltov!] As a result, she takes the shield right in the chest. The force of the blast sends her flying through the wall into the sun porch. Piper jumps up, calling her sister’s name. Fruma-Shax [andsuchason-in-law, likenooneeversaw ] flings another energy shield at Piper, hurling her bodily through what seems to be a retaining pillar. As I wait for [thetailormotelkamzoil] part of the second floor to crash down into the hall, the doc asks Fruma-Shax who he is. [motel?] Fruma-Shax mouth-breathes, “The End.” As Fruma-Shax prepares to give the good doctor a taste of what he gave the now-unconscious and bleeding Ps, Phoebe rushes down the stairs to the landing with a piece of notebook paper. She tries to speak above the roar of the wind, but I still missed part of the spell. “Evil wind that blows/That forms below,” she recites as Fruma-Shax raises his hands before his face. “No longer may you dwell/mumble mumble mumble takes you with this spell,” Phoebe finishes. Fruma-Shax wails as he flares up into a glowing white smear. The smear shoots backwards through the hallway and out the front doors. The doors slam shut of their own accord once Fruma-Shax has disappeared. Doctor Griffiths looks like he could use a cocktail right about now.
Phoebe darts down the remaining stairs past the doctor to check on her sisters. It doesn’t look good. Piper’s bleeding freely through her nose and mouth, and a pool of blood spreads slowly across the floor from Prue’s head. Alyssa the Diva’s all, “HA! Take that, you bitches!” Phoebe, meanwhile, mutters out, “Oh, God,” and starts screaming for the Dolt. He orbs in immediately and drops to one knee to apply that special Whitelighter tingly touch. The spilled blood oozes back into Prue and Piper’s bodies and they awake, groaning and wondering what happened. “You almost died,” the Dolt tells them. Piper doesn’t find this bit of information surprising in the least. Prue asks for the whereabouts of Fruma-Shax. Phoebe reveals that she recited the vanquish, but believes it merely “wounded him.” Prue supposes the spell might be a Power of Three. She drags herself to her feet, grunting a bit, and hauls Piper up after her. Prue and Piper will leave the manor to search of Fruma-Shax in the hope the two of them are strong enough together to vanquish him in his weakened state. Phoebe is to remain with Doctor Griffiths should Fruma-Shax return. Prue and Piper stagger off down the hall as the good doctor gapes in disbelief.
Outside, the two break into a trot. As they jog along, Prue notes that she doesn’t think Fruma-Shax went too far, as his primary target is still breathing. “Do you really think he’d attack us in broad daylight?” Piper asks. “Evil’s usually more insidious than that.” Prue hears a noise, and the two stop in the middle of the sidewalk, holding hands, as the Tornado of Fruma-Shax whips into view behind them. Quick switch to the DemonCam as the swirling cloud closes in on them. Fruma-Shax rematerializes and shoots another shield at the sisters. Prue TKs it back into him. Piper takes this opportunity to blow him up. Fruma-Shax does not, however, explode into black shards as the Freak and the Banshee did. After he has disappeared into a cloud of blue flame, Prue and Piper evaluate the situation. Prue finds it odd that they vanquished him without the spell. Piper hesitantly reminds her that they don’t always need spells to rid themselves of their enemies. Nervously, they glance around the apparently-empty street as Piper notes, “It’s lucky that nobody saw us.” Prue grabs Piper’s hand, and the two spin around to scurry back to the manor.
Cut to a mobile news crew from KCSF Channel 8. Uh oh. They saw everything. What’s more, they taped it. The reporter, “Elana Dominguez,” orders the cameraman to focus on her as she continues with her broadcast. “I’m not sure exactly what happened,” she pants into her microphone. “But remember, you saw it here. Live.” Credits.
Do you want to know how much I like this episode? So much so that the endless opening travelogue of San Francisco accompanied by some alterna-testicle doesn’t bother me at all. The camera eventually settles on the manor. In the suspiciously-undamaged sun porch (which doesn’t bother me, because I like this episode so much), Piper crosses from the kitchen to hand the good doctor a glass of water. The three sisters are just finishing up their standard lecture on the importance of keeping one’s mouth shut about witches and demons and such. Prue explains that, should the good doctor go running to the tabloids with what he knows of the Halliwells, the Ps would no longer be able to help people. He understands how important it is for them to continue their work, doesn’t he? He does. After making a crack about his freshly-discarded atheist dogma, he reassures them, “Your secret is safe with me.” “You saved my life,” he continues. “The least I can do is protect yours.” Phoebe beams and offers to see him to the door. As the two cross to the hall, the Dolt (I almost typed “Leo” there -- that’s how much I like this episode) enters, wondering how the good doctor received the lecture. “We dodged another bullet,” is Piper’s hushed response. Prue, however, has her doubts. She’s still not happy with the manner in which Fruma-Shax disappeared. If Piper’s heightened power of molecular manipulation was all they required to get rid of the beast, why was there a vanquishing spell in the BoS? She reminds them that the whole idea underpinning the Power of Three is that individual powers such as telekinesis or molecular manipulation are never enough. The Dolt suggests that the sisters’ individual abilities have progressed to the point that they no longer need spells, necessarily, to get the job done. Prue’s not having that explanation. She asks the Dolt if he wouldn’t mind orbing up to The Powers That Be for a consult to ensure that Fruma-Shax won’t be bothering them again. He doesn’t mind at all. Out he goes.
Piper remarks that Prue is being “paranoid.” “We kicked ass!” she asserts. Prue smiles and supposes Piper’s right. They probably don’t have anything to worry about. Prue’s top is a little odd. It’s basic black, which is nice, but it looks like someone chopped off the upper half of a cocktail dress and turned it into a blouse. I really hope they get a new costumer for season. Anyway, Phoebe steps in to ask if the other two would mind if she took a little time to search for her cuddly little demon. There’s a bit of back-and-forth of the overused “Cole’s bad for you and you know it” sort. Phoebe tells them to cram it. She doesn’t want approval from her sisters, simply their support. Piper relents. “What do you want us to do?” she asks. Phoebe hands her a slip of paper containing a revised version of the “magic calling magic” spell that will send her to Cole, rather than calling him to the manor. Once she finds him, she intends to apply the potion she’s been concocting to counter the effects of the spell the evil Ian Buchanan cast a couple of weeks ago. Piper has one more concern. While Phoebe is in the company of demons, her sisters will not be able to contact her should the need arise for her assistance. Phoebe urges Piper not to fret. She’ll be safe with the Colethazor, and should her sisters need her, he’s certain to bring her back. Famous last words. Feebs is a walking advertisement for Bad Idea Jeans.
Cavern of the Bi Kraps. A slow pan from the candlelit demonic altar down to the floor reveals the Colethazor, snoozing on a bed of straw. Cole, honey, if such accommodations are the best the demonic realm has to offer, you really need to look into another line of work. The camera tilts up a bit, and Phoebe swirls into view in a cloud of glowing golf balls. She lowers herself to the floor and prods the Colethazor to wake him. He opens his eyes, takes a moment to figure out what’s going on, and asks her what she’s doing down there in the Cavern. “I’ve come to take you back,” she tells him. He shoots his hand out, grabbing her by the neck and pushing her against the wall. “You just made a huge mistake,” he menaces.
KCSF Headquarters. The managing editor, whose name is presently revealed to be “Dave,” tells his crew to “pipe down” as the cameraman from the pre-credits sequence enters with a three-quarter-inch reel. Jimmy Olsen hands the tape over to Elana as Dave warns, “What we talk about in this room stays in this room until I say otherwise.” The assembled staff agrees to this. Elana pops the tape into the VCR and hits play. She’d apparently been in the Halliwells’ neighborhood to do a minor story on a newly-discovered fault line beneath the area when Fruma-Shax attacked Piper and Prue on the sidewalk. The news team lets out a collective gasp when Piper blows up the demon. Elana punches the stop button and spins around to face the room, a smile of triumph on her lips. Dave wonders if the footage has “hit the network feed yet.” A brittle newswoman -- let’s call her “Hildy Johnson” -- notes, “No, but if we don’t send it, some idiot out there who taped it will.” One of her colleagues runs with this, adding that should that happen, KCSF would lose “control of the revenue stream.” Dave tells them all to shut up. He’s not going to compromise the station’s journalistic integrity by releasing the tape before they “get authentication.” Like releasing something so sensationalistic -- authenticated or otherwise -- is in the best interests of journalistic integrity. Try again, Dave. A debate erupts about what they’ve just seen. Elana’s convinced that it’s “supernatural” in nature. Others suggest possible military involvement. Hildy shuts them all down, smugly insisting that the whole thing’s a “hoax.” Elana smells a Peabody Award, and won’t let any of the others rain on that little parade. “We can’t put the genie back in the bottle,” she insists. “Two hundred thousand viewers saw it live. What do you want to do?” Two hundred thousand, huh? I just bet math wasn’t one of your better subjects in high school, was it, Elana? Dave takes a moment, then approaches Elana and Jimmy. “Go find out who these women are,” he instructs them. “But be careful. They might not want to be found.” With these words, Dave successfully chums the waters for the Latina piranha. The bottom feeder gleefully darts out of the conference room with her trusty cameraman.
Cut to Prue, kneeling on the sidewalk outside of the manor, fiddling with some dead leaves. Still uneasy with that morning’s events, she’s searching for any “demonic residue” Fruma-Shax might have left behind as proof the demon is indeed gone for good. She’s not finding anything. Piper stands off to the side, furrowing her brow over Phoebe’s little jaunt down to Hell. Prue reminds Piper that Phoebe can “take care of herself.” Prue straightens herself up and strides down the street with Piper trailing behind her. “I’ve had a bad feeling about all this all day,” Prue insists, “and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to trust those feelings.” Piper passes a preadolescent blonde who’s holding a jump rope. Piper perks out a “Hi!” to the kid, but the girl just stares dumbly at her. The girl’s mother snatches her away from the wicked Halliwell presence, telling her child to “stay away from those people.” Piper looks a bit puzzled at that, but quickens her pace to catch up with Prue down the street.
Police station. Detective Darryl muscles a sullen perp into a chair. One of his superior officers confronts him. “Looks like all those rumors about you and the Halliwells are true.” Darryl turns his head to glance at the television in the office. KCSF apparently has the damn tape on a continuous loop. Darryl watches Piper “vanquishing” Fruma-Shax, then mutters, “Oh, no.” Cut to the manor kitchen. The portable TV on the counter’s tuned to Channel 8, and the screen is filled with a title card that screams, “Breaking News.” It must be a really slow news day in San Francisco. Prue enters, nattering something into her cell phone about having the good doctor contact her as soon as he can. She hangs up and tells Piper, “Doctor Griffiths is in surgery, so he’s safe for now.” Fruma-Shax apparently avoids operating theaters. Piper wonders how long they’re supposed to busy themselves with this one guy. Prue’s all, “Until the job gets done,” and tries to drag Piper out for more demon hunting. Piper thinks otherwise. She’s not moving until the Dolt returns with some relevant information. In the background, the announcer on the TV drones on about having “the original tape examined by experts.” Prue and Piper ignore this. The cordless in the kitchen rings. Prue leaps for it, hoping it’s the good doctor. It’s Darryl, and he’s babbling, apparently, because Prue has to tell him repeatedly to slow down. Cut back to the station house. Darryl tells her to turn on her damn TV, because “it’s all over the place.” Piper picks up the remote and cranks up the volume on the portable on the counter. She watches herself “vanquish” Fruma-Shax. “Oh. My. God.” Piper drops the remote. Prue drops the cordless. The two stare in gaping horror at the TV as Piranha Dominguez cuts in with a “special report.” “We are now approaching the home of where they allegedly live.” Way to do favors for the English language, you bird-brained chippie. Piranha leaps from her van to pose at the foot of the manor’s front steps. “Prue, Piper, and Phoebe Halliwell,” she enthuses. “And you’re gonna meet them live. Right here on KCSF.” Jimmy pans the camera up to take in the entire façade. Prue and Piper stand paralyzed at the island. Prue’s hands are clapped over her mouth. Piper breathes, “What are we going to do?” Why, cut to commercial, of course.
“Awww. Buster’s sleeping. Drink it when you wake up, little friend.” Heh.
Back from the break, an extended tracking shot starts by focusing on the aerial of the KCSF satellite truck parked outside the manor. The camera pans down to reveal a growing clutch of reporters and bystanders in a knot on the sidewalk. Darryl pulls up to the van, and is immediately hounded by about eight journalists. The camera follows him as he pushes his way through the crowd to the front stairs. On one of the landings, an irritating hippie woman natters on about being a witch herself. Darryl pushes past her, only to be accosted by Piranha Dominguez, who has the unmitigated gall to be standing right on the goddamn front porch. Darryl barks into his cell, telling Prue to open the door. She allows him in, then slams the door in Piranha’s face with a “Back off!” No one does bitch quite like the Prue, ladies and gentlemen. The shot finally cuts, landing us in the manor hall. Piper trundles in from the kitchen, bitching about the reporters, and can’t Darryl do anything about it? Not really. The Ps should expect such attention when they “kill somebody in broad daylight.” Prue snits, “It wasn’t somebody -- it was a demon. And we aren’t sure if we killed him.” Darryl asks her if she’d like to inform the crowd outside of that fact. Prue rolls her eyes. Darryl’s called for backup, but admits that the police won’t be of much help in a media frenzy. Piper snots that they “shouldn’t have followed [Fruma-Shax] into the street.” Prue, sarcastically: “We could have let him kill our innocent. That would’ve been better, ya think?” I think Death would answer that question with a yes. As a matter of fact, I think he did answer that question with a yes a few episodes back when FetusHead and his goon sucked the brain out of that rather annoying policeman. Can’t teach an old Prue new tricks, now can you?
Darryl cuts in with more bad news. “The captain wants me to bring you in for questioning.” Before Piper and Prue can bitch to him about that development, his cell phone rings. He moves off into the dining room to take the call as Prue crosses to Piper’s side. “Maybe when Phoebe’s done saving Cole, she can come back and save us,” she snarks. The Dolt orbs into the hall. Seems word of the Great Halliwell Unmasking of 2001 has reached the ears of TPTB. They’re concerned, but useless. As usual. Piper starts to piss and moan about this, but the Dolt cuts her short. Piper and Prue screwed up. If they don’t figure out a way to fix things, they run the risk of losing “all the good that [they’ve] done and all the good that [they] are meant to do.” Piper puts forth the proposition that perhaps the Great Unmasking was fated, that perhaps the sisters are not meant to continue with their witchy ways. Prue disagrees. She sees the current situation as the latest in a series of “tests” they’ve been given over the past year. Regardless, she and Piper “still have work to do.” “Doctor Griffiths?” Piper asks incredulously. Yep. Prue’s convinced Fruma-Shax will not be vanquished until Phoebe returns to complete the Power of Three. The Dolt was unaware of Phoebe’s little day trip to Hell. Prue tells him it’s not important at the moment. What is important is that the Dolt orb them over to Doctor Griffiths’s place of employment immediately. The Dolt can’t. TPTB are worried that Whitelighters might be exposed as well. Piper, as you might expect, does not take this news well. “Cowards!” she shrieks. Darryl returns from the dining room for a brief confab. He warns Prue against taking further action, as she may be endangering herself and her sister. Prue’s in Alpha Witch mode, so arguments not favoring her intended plan of action fall upon deaf ears. She books out the back door with Piper to drive to the hospital in the SUV. Out on the manor lawn, Piranha Dominguez natters into her microphone about possible arrests. She’s interrupted by the unwashed and still-irritating hippie woman screaming at the sight of Prue and Piper running towards their car. As the hippie babbles, “Take me! Take me!” Prue slips behind the wheel, guns the engine, and takes off down the street. The hippie flails her rag-doll arms around in frustration as Piranha Dominguez barks an off-camera order to follow the SUV.
Cavern of the Bi Kraps. Phoebe hurls the Colethazor back into his bed of straw. He sighs, then says, “You’re not an easy girl to dump.” Heh. Phoebe insists she won’t leave until she “get[s] what [she] came for.” The Colethazor tells her she’s wasting her time. The Colethazor’s not for taking anymore. They kick it exposition-style about the black mark on the Colethazor’s permanent record because of the Jenna Flambé and Phoebe’s willingness to forgive him for that anyway. He grabs her throat again to get her to shut up. Thank you, Cole. He tells her to “go home.” She smashes the vial of her latest concoction onto his shoulder. He staggers backwards, dazed, as a rising mist twines around his head. “Pretty cool potion, huh?” Phoebe asks. He lunges forward to suck face. “Potion”? Try “poppers,” Feebs. After a bit of the necking, they break apart and launch into more of that “forbidden love” nonsense. She wants to squiggle back to the manor immediately. He doesn’t think his bosses will let him go so easily. “So where does that leave us?” she pouts. “Right where we are,” he replies. Yeah, whatever. Get back to the A story already.
Oh, look at that. They listened to me for once. I told you this was a good episode. Doctor Griffiths emerges from the OR and crosses to the reception desk to take a call. Prue and Piper leap in behind him to drag him away. He makes a couple of flustered noises, but upon hearing that Fruma-Shax is still after his ass, he goes with them. Cut to the exterior of the hospital, which is revealed to be “San Francisco Memorial.” I have no idea if the location is significant, but I thought I’d mention it, as they went out of their way to include that information in the episode. The good doctor thought the Ps had gotten rid of Fruma-Shax. Prue is sorry to relate that that’s not the case. The three run down the front steps of the building to the SUV as the news van from KCSF sets up across the street. Jimmy plants his camera on his shoulder and aims it at the gals. Cut to the DemonCam as Fruma-Shax spins his wicked way towards the doctor. The demon flings the doctor to the ground but -- strangely -- does not kill him. He then menaces in the general direction of Piper and Prue. Prue quickly unfolds the piece of paper containing the vanquish, which she recites in unison with Piper. That word I missed because of Phoebe’s earlier mumbling was “death.” The last line reads, “Death takes you with this spell.” Fruma-Shax quivers and howls and bursts into a yellow and white explosion. “Now that was a vanquish,” Prue notes. An appreciative crowd applauds the impromptu fireworks display. Piper catches sight of Jimmy and Piranha Dominguez across the street. “Uh oh. News at eleven.” “That’s bad,” Prue agrees, and we cut away to commercial.
Back from the break, mayhem and madness at Halliwell manor. Freakish extras wave amateurish signs ranging from the sort of fundamentalist Christian condemnations one would expect at the unmasking of witches to pleas for Wiccan intervention in the lives of the unfortunate. That goddamned hippie stands on the roof of her Volkswagen bus, screeching some nonsense about how only she can understand the Halliwells. Like the cops wouldn’t have hauled her unwashed, addle-brained ass out of there by now. Indoors, Darryl enters the kitchen as he orders an underling via two-way radio to keep the crowds behind police lines. Prue can’t understand how the news crew knew to find them at San Francisco Memorial. Darryl guesses that “a reporter Lo/Jacked” the SUV. Piper, meanwhile, is leafing through a sheaf of faxes they’ve received since the story broke. Seems they’ve received interview requests from “Ted Koppel, Time magazine, [and] Jerry Springer,” among others. She’s surprised to see a request from Sports Illustrated. Darryl: “Yeah, they probably want you for the swimsuit edition.” Heh. Prue declares the situation to be “a nightmare,” and hollers for the Dolt. He doesn’t answer. She glances at the TV and finds another reason to bitch -- a very good reason, as it turns out. Doctor Griffiths has granted an exclusive interview to Piranha Dominguez. The banner across the bottom of the screen reads “Rescued by Witches,” as Griffiths expounds on vanquishing spells and demons and magic books and the like. He’s still in his scrubs, and he’s posed with one foot up on the fender of an ambulance in a manner that just screams “desperate fiftysomething divorcé in the throes of yet another mid-life crisis.” Piper orders Prue to change channels. Over on Channel 6, “Susie Johnson,” one of Prue’s high-school classmates, accuses Prue of casting “a spell to make [her] boyfriend break up with [her].” Susie finishes up with “Evil.” Hee! She totally looks like a Susie, too.
Prue’s on the verge of an apoplectic fit. She stomps into the sun porch, demanding the immediate presence of the Dolt. This time he heeds her call and orbs on in behind her. There’s a round of bitchery and snipes, followed by the Dolt revealing TPTB’s cunning plan. The Dolt himself thinks it’s “a long shot,” but fills the two Ps in on it anyway. They must to find a way to summon a demon named Tempus, as he is the only force on either side of the dividing line between good and evil who can turn back the clock. Should Tempus do this, all problems stemming from the Great Halliwell Unmasking of 2001 will be solved. Piper finds one little problem with this idea. “We vanquished him.” No, they merely “defeated” him, but that’s neither here nor there. The real issue is how to contact him. He’s an “upper-level demon” who enjoys the direct protection of The Source. Piper whines that, with all the media scrutiny, the sisters are for all intents and purposes “powerless.” Why would a demon want to change that? Before they can debate this point, the smelly, unwashed, irritating, addle-brained hippie rag-doll barges in from outside. “Wow, I made it!” she zonks. Shut up, sow. Piper and Prue are quite reasonably outraged by this intrusion. The smelly, unwashed, irritating, addle-brained hippie rag-doll reveals that her name is “Alice Hicks.” She wants “to join [the Ps’] coven.” Prue TKs her smelly ass back out onto the lawn and slams the doors shut behind her. Aw, Prue. I’m gonna miss you. Darryl, living up to his nickname of “Too Little Too Late,” enters with his gun drawn. Prue basically says, “Thanks for nothing, chump,” then turns to address the Dolt. “This has to end now or our lives are over.” Gee. You think someone ends up dead by the end of the episode?
Outside, Smelly Alice becomes grist for the tabloid mill. Piranha Dominguez confronts her, shoving the microphone into her face, asking for details of the encounter. Some random coot, who’s either a print journalist or another freak from the barricades, asks, “Did they think you were a demon?” Smelly Alice oh-so-psychotically brushes tears and hair from her face as she pouts, “They’re mean witches.” Again, I find it hard to believe that the police wouldn’t have busted Smelly Alice’s smelly ass by now, but I’m just going to go along with it, so great is my liking of this episode. Back in the sun porch, it’s quickly determined that the best way to reach Tempus is through Cole. As the Dolt is allowed to orb into the Cavern of the Bi Kraps, they decide he should head down there to look for him. The Dolt warns them that he’ll be incommunicado for the length of his visit to the Cavern, much like Phoebe. What if something should happen while he’s gone? “Honey,” Piper soothes, “what more trouble could we possibly get into?” She tells him to “go and be careful.” She gives him a peck on the lips, and he orbs out in mid-kiss. It all ends in heartache and tears, people. The tears of some considerably more ridiculous than the tears of others, granted, but still. Just thought I’d warn you in advance. Piper turns around to face Prue and perks brightly, “So whaddya say: Oprah? Or Barbara?” Prue cracks a broad grin as Piper decides for them both. “Barbara makes you cry. We go with Oprah.” Snicker.
Cavern. Cole enters with some very bad news. He has to squiggle Phoebe out of there pronto. Something awful is happening in the Realm of the Demonic. Something awful enough to require the presence of The Source. Phoebe hyperventilates a bit upon learning that The Source lurks somewhere in the Cavern. The Colethazor has no idea what’s going on, but he suggests that they not wait around to find out. The Dolt orbs in behind Phoebe at this moment. The Colethazor not unkindly wonders if the Dolt’s gone insane. “What are you doing here?” he demands. The Dolt fills them in on the recent developments topside, and asks Cole to summon Tempus. Cole can’t. Even if he wanted to help, he’s not strong enough to summon a demon like Tempus at will. Phoebe guesses that, be that as it may, Cole knows someone who could. Cole can’t believe what she’s suggesting he do. Does she really believe The Source would order Tempus to go to the aid of the Charmed Ones? The Dolt reminds him that, as a result of the botched vanquish of Fruma-Shax, the “demonic world has been exposed too.” The intervention of Tempus would be beneficial to both sides. The Dolt urges Cole to phrase the request so that The Source believes Cole has the best interests of the demonic brotherhood at heart. Cole thinks this over for a bit and decides that the whole idea is “suicide.” He caves in to their request anyway.
In another area of the Cavern, the Colethazor approaches a lunkhead clad in leather. The leather-clad lunkhead glares at him for a moment, then lets him pass. Cole enters The Source’s lair. Because I like this episode so much, I won’t make too big a deal about how stupid The Source looks with those huge, fake, red feathered wings stuck to his back. Do you remember how awful Cole looked in the Halloween episode when he showed up in angel drag at the end? Yeah, well, this is worse. And it doesn’t help matters much that The Source, when he speaks, sounds like a low-rent substitute for James Earl Jones. However, as I said, I like this episode too much to quibble about such matters. Anyway, back to the summit in progress. Aside from making it very clear that The Source and Cole are pretty much bitter enemies at this point, the new information boils down to the following: Tempus is still “too weak” from his recent defeat to comply easily with Cole’s request. However, The Source is willing to make a deal. If Phoebe joins the Forces of Evil, The Source will order Tempus to crank the clock back. The Colethazor doesn’t think Phoebe would be too keen on that idea. The Source thinks otherwise. Phoebe would do anything to save the life of one of her sisters, wouldn’t she? Dun-dun-DUN!
Upstairs, The Siege Of Halliwell Manor continues. In the sun porch, Prue and Piper barricade the door with the cast-iron table and a couple of chairs. Piper finds this exercise pointless. If Tempus doesn’t reset the clock, she argues, a little lawn furniture won’t protect them from the crowd. Prue tells her to cram it. They have “to figure out what [they’re] gonna do” should the Dolt fail on his mission to Hell. Piper has that one covered: “We’re gonna do talk shows and book signings and movie deals and then be taken by the CIA and dissected.” Prue, holding the BoS in her arms, doesn’t think that’s funny. “How can you be joking about this, Piper?” Piper’s tries to blow off Prue’s nagging, but Prue continues. “I’m scared,” she admits. “And you should be, too. Everything we’ve worked for could be destroyed with one stupid mistake. Our future -- our entire destiny -- could be wiped out like that.” Prue snaps her fingers to emphasize that last word, and as she does so, a gunshot fires somewhere outside. Piper gasps as if startled by the loud report of the rifle. Prue wonders what the noise was. The camera pans down from Piper’s face to her torso. Piper’s been hit, and blood from the wound pours from her stomach to stain her shirt and her hands. Piper collapses into Prue’s arms as the shot cuts to Smelly Alice outside. She stands above her VW bus with a rifle in her hands. She takes a moment, then raises the weapon above her head, rejoicing, “I killed the wicked witch!” A team of three uniformed officers wrestles her off the roof of the van to the street below. Once they’ve handcuffed her, they place her in Darryl’s custody. He drags her off past the braying spectators as we cut back into the manor.
Okay, a moment for my reservations about what just happened. It won’t take too long, because I want to get to the scene, which kicks all kinds of ass. Smelly Alice fired into the manor from atop her VW bus parked in the street below. How in hell did she get a clear shot from that position? Seriously -- someone explain the sort of twisted geometry that would result in angles that would allow that to happen. Also, Piper and Prue were headed towards the back of the manor when Piper was shot. Piper was facing the front of the house, and thus, Smelly Alice. How then, was she shot in her back? And she had to have been shot in her back, because given the amount of blood on the front of her shirt and her hands, the hole in her stomach had to be an exit wound. Given that, why didn’t the bullet hit Prue, too? She was standing right in front of Piper, after all. Is the slug embedded in the Book of Shadows? As a matter of fact, why wouldn’t Prue have taken the bullet in the first place, given that she was the one standing closer to the shooter? And finally, a smelly hippie -- who has already broken into the house once -- has time to climb to the roof of her reefer mobile, which is illegally parked on the wrong side of a police barricade, with a rifle, aim the rifle, and shoot a person who is supposedly the current recipient of police protection, and none of the twenty or so cops on the street would have taken said smelly hippie out first? ["And what's a smelly hippie doing with a gun in the second place? She's a hippie, people!" -- Sars] But like I said. I like this episode so much, I feel like I’m quibbling.
Oh, and: Whatever. Morons.
Back in the manor, Prue and Piper form a sort of Halliwell Pieta on the floor. Prue dissolves into tears of horror, frustration, and anguish as she cradles Piper’s shuddering body in her arms. Piper looks like she’s quickly sliding into shock. Damn. Holly Marie Combs even pulls off dying better than anyone else on this show. Prue’s repeated, frantic cries of “Leo!” go unanswered. She whispers through her sobs, “Piper, it’s going to be okay. We’ll get you to the hospital.”
Good luck. The mob outside has pretty much blocked the driveway. Prue struggles to haul Piper down to her car, calling out for Leo the entire time. The mob, meanwhile, responds to their appearance with a heightened frenzy. Piranha Dominguez finds this an excellent time to shout a couple of questions at Prue. Prue eases Piper into the back seat of the car as gently as possible, given the circumstances. She leaps behind the wheel and heads down the drive, but her path is blocked by protesters and reporters and police. Prue bangs repeatedly on the horn, screaming, “Move!” They don’t listen to her, probably because with all of the damn noise, they can’t hear her in the first place. The sequence is really well done. Congratulations to Ms. Doherty on the direction. And I mean that. Prue gets out of the car, baying for the assistance she so badly needs. It doesn’t come. There is a series of jump cuts of the crowd, presumably from Prue’s point of view, and it looks like Hell on Earth. Dominguez continues to shout, “Miss Halliwell, can you tell us what’s going on?” as we get a shot of Piper’s lifeless form slumped face down in the back seat. The camera cuts abruptly to an angle from the far side of the manor, sweeping into Prue as she screams, “What’s wrong with you people?” As the shot pulls in closer to her at a slightly skewed angle, it slows down while the cacophony on the street melts together into a single, low-pitched roar under Prue’s screams. The roar of the mob fades away as the beat of the rotors of the news choppers overhead slows to fade into the beating of Prue’s heart as Prue’s entire world collapses in on her. Two more brief slow-motion Prue POVs of the crowd and the reporters. Prue snaps. She flings her left arm out, and the shot goes back to real time as the TK hits Piranha and Jimmy. They fly backwards onto the lawn. The effect on the crowd is immediate. Various extras hit the deck while others attempt to scamper away. The ones who run are not moving fast enough for Prue. She sends about a half dozen of them through the air, with one landing so hard on a nearby car he shatters the windshield. Once she’s cleared a path, she gets back into the car and tears off down the street. You could argue this entire sequence represents a meta-statement on Shannen Doherty’s part regarding her real-life relationship with the tabloid press and what she’d really like to do to them, and you very well may be right about that. I don’t care. It worked. Brava.
San Francisco Memorial. A gurney carrying the grievously injured Piper slams through a set of swinging doors. Prue asks one of the nurses for the whereabouts of Doctor Griffiths. At that moment, he hustles to one side of the gurney. He starts barking out orders for Piper’s vital statistics, and all of the sudden I’m recapping ER. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if Luka popped in right about now with his scythe. Piper’s pulse is “seventy and weak.” They lift her from the gurney onto an operating table. She’s hyperventilating, her face has a greyish cast to it, and her lips are turning blue. Doctor Griffiths, by the way, justifies my earlier rant about Piper’s injuries when he confirms, “Small entry wound upper back, large exit wound lower abdomen.” Smelly Alice would have to have been hovering in mid-air above the first floor of the damn manor to pull that off. As Griffiths determines that Piper’s “lungs are failing” and calls out for a couple of units of blood, Prue again calls for Leo. Piper still has the presence of mind to pant out, “He can’t hear you. Something must have gone wrong.” Prue takes Piper’s bloodied hand in hers and leans in to whisper, “Don’t die on me.” Oh, man. This is rough. I mean it. Piper, struggling to breathe, softly whimpers, “Prue? I’m cold.” That sent chills up and down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face when she delivered that line. Damn, she’s good. Prue’s composure -- fragile to begin with -- shatters. She wordlessly pleads with Griffiths to save her sister as sobs wrack her body. Piper, weakly gripping Prue’s hand, continues, “I can’t feel my legs.” She turns her head to beg of Prue, “Don’t go. I love you.” Piper slides down into cardiac arrest. The nurses wheel in a defibrillator as Prue backs away from the table in terror. She raises her hands -- stained with her sister’s blood -- to her face as Griffiths charges the paddles and shouts, “Clear!” Piper’s body jerks violently at the shock. They recharge the paddles for another try. Another violent jerk. Nothing. She’s gone. Griffiths mutters, “I’m sorry,” as Prue wails. Her face is now streaked with Piper’s blood as well. She moves to Piper’s side, keening, and gently draws her hand over Piper’s face to close her eyes. Prue’s sorrow turns briefly into rage. “Get out of here,” she snarls at the various medical personnel. “Go!” Griffiths is the last to leave the room, and he looks guilty as hell. Prue dissolves into strangled sobs. As the medical personnel shut the doors behind them, soldiers in full body armor moves in to block access to the room.
Cavern. The Colethazor returns to find Phoebe and the Dolt engaged in a hushed conversation. They clam up and rise to greet him. He fills them in on the deal proposed by The Source. Phoebe can’t believe it. “Why would he think that I would accept an offer like that?” The Colethazor drops the dead sibling bomb. The Dolt thinks Cole’s bluffing. Cole shakes his head sadly. Deathly pause as Phoebe struggles to process this information, then we cut back up to the hospital. Eight more gentlemen in Special Forces drag pour through the main hallway and cautiously approach the Death Room. Inside, Prue mourns. She stares at Piper, noticing at last the various tubes and wires still attached to the body, and impatiently flicks them all away. Special Forces Pete enters the room, telling Prue to “keep [her] hands where [he] can see them and [she] won’t get hurt.” Prue is so over everything that’s happened today. She TKs Special Forces Pete out into the hall. When Special Forces Ivan moves in to take his place, she kicks his rifle out of his hand, then lands a boot to his chest which sends him flying out into the hall as well. Prue barricades the door with an upright from an IV stand and smacks off the lights. The Dolt orbs into the Room of Death. “They killed her, Leo,” Prue tells him. “They think we’re the demons now.” Because I like this episode so much, I won’t dwell on the fact that the Brian Krause snot-nosed “crying” “jag” that now appears on my television screen has destroyed any goodwill towards his character this episode has thus far engendered. He looks like one of the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz. Shut up, Dolt. And look at that. This episode is so good, Prue tells the Dolt to shut up for me. Thanks, Prue. The Dolt orbs back down to Hell. Prue hyperventilates some more after he leaves, then moves to Piper’s side to offer the reassurance that “[the Dolt] will fix it. Everything’s going to be fine.” Again with the old-Prue-equals-no-new-tricks thing. Honey, you’ve seen how Death immediately spirits away the essence (or whatever) of the deceased. Stop. Talking. To. Your. Sister’s. Corpse.
Cavern. The Dolt orbs in with the bad news. Interestingly, he says not a word when he enters. Phoebe, however, takes one look at his face and breathes, “Piper.” Is this supposed to indicate that the sisters are so close to their Whitelighter, any one of them would be able to guess what he’s thinking? Or does it indicate that Phoebe knows for a fact that the Dolt wouldn’t care if Prue had been the one with the gaping exit wound? You decide. Phoebe comforts him briefly, then turns to ask the Colethazor, “Will resetting time affect us down here?” Cole allows that it won’t. Phoebe notes that, in that case, she has a condition of her own. She will remain in the Cavern if Cole warns Prue and Piper of Fruma-Shax immediately upon the regression of time. “Otherwise, they’re dead anyway.” Cut to Source Earl Jones, booming, “Agreed!” from deep within his red velour robe. Cole rises from his knees and leaves. Leather-clad Lunkhead approaches and genuflects before Source Earl Jones to receive the following instructions from the master of them all: “Once I have reset time, detain him, and then kill his witch. That way I don’t have to worry about Belthazor any more. Or the Charmed Ones.” Get it? The Source himself can turn back time. (Surprisingly, this makes sense. He himself would have the combined powers of all of his underlings, wouldn’t he?) The Source orchestrated the entire thing, knowing that the unusual and foolhardy daytime Fruma-Shax attacks would lead Prue to expose the Halliwells, knowing that The Powers That Be would resort to temporal regression to solve the problem, and knowing that TPTB would involve the Colethazor in all of it. And everyone fell for it. Clever Source. Or, rather, clever Kern. I don’t think I’ve encountered an episode so tightly scripted on this show before. Bravo.
Up in the Room of Death, Prue draws a blanket up over Piper’s body. Sniff. Out in the hall, Special Forces Pete (or we could be up to Special Forces Billy by now) kneels against a doorframe and aims a high-powered rifle at the wall hiding Prue. The rifle has a heat-sensitive, plaster-penetrating scope which reveals Prue’s form as she paces back and forth in the Room of Death. He targets her head. Quick cut down below, where Source Earl Jones intones, “It shall be done.” Special Forces Billy squeezes the trigger, and we shift into BulletCam, following its trajectory through the wall. The bullet wings into the room. Prue raises her hands to the sides of her face in shock. The bullet slows, then stops right in front of her nose. Time reversal kicks in, and the bullet hurtles backwards out of the room and into the rifle. There’s a very quick rewind of this short scene followed by a series of shots of time tramping backwards across San Francisco. Fast fade to the much-abused grandfather clock in the manor hall. The hands on the face whiz backwards to reset themselves at 6:25 AM.
Piper rolls her eyes as if to say, “The only problems with saving innocents are the stupid innocents themselves.” Prue gives Doc the shorthand version of what’s going on. He’s a “healer,” which means he does “good.” Either he’s already “saved too many lives,” or he’s about to help someone the dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell want dead. To prevent this, The Source has sent the aforementioned demonic assassin, a personal lackey of his named “Shax.” That’s a horrible name, but I expect nothing less from the “hax” who write these damn things. And that was a horrible joke. Let’s move it along then, shall we? Doc’s had it. He thinks this is all some sort of practical joke perpetrated on his undeserving self by his second wife. He’ll soon learn otherwise. Prue begins to explain the evil they’re up against is very real, indeed. “Dr. Griffiths, this is anything but…” she starts, but cuts herself short when she feels a “chill” run through her body. She calls for Phoebe as the sound of a raging whirlwind amps up a bit on the soundtrack.
Phoebe doesn’t answer.
DemonCam. The whirlwind slams open the front doors and swirls through the front hall. Prue screams, “Phoebe? Where are you?” The cloud knocks the two sisters to the parlor floor then flares out into the form of the demon himself. Doctor Griffiths takes in this apparition from Hell and mutters, “Dear God.” Fruma-Shax swings his right arm around to throw a violent energy shield at the Doc. Prue leaps to her feet and pushes the doctor out of the way. She takes the shield right in the chest, and the force of the blast sends her flying through the wall into the sun porch. Piper jumps up, calling her sister’s name. Fruma-Shax flings another energy shield at Piper, hurling her bodily through what seems to be a retaining pillar. Doctor Griffiths stutters out, “What are you?” Fruma-Shax mouth breathes, “The End.” The demon whips a final shield at the doctor. Griffiths hurtles backwards over the dining room table and crashes through the windows at the far end of the room. Blood pours from his ear. Fruma-Shax gazes impassively at the lifeless forms of Prue and Piper in the wreckage on the sun porch floor. There’s more blood evident this time around. Fruma-Shax flares up white, then disappears into the whirlwind. DemonCam in a tracking shot that pulls rapidly back through the hallway. As the monster backs through the threshold, the front doors slam shut with such violence that the panes of glass shatter and the resulting shards cascade to the floor. The shot abruptly slows and rises up at an angle above the porch as gusts of wind scatter dead leaves about and we fade to black.