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Upper-level demons. Ensure your throats are properly hydrated.
Fade up on a map of the city, in the attic. The camera pans across it and over to Raige, who flips through the Book of Shadows as Piper impatiently paces behind her. "A demon who likes to kill witches," Raige muses. "Well, that narrows it down to every page in the Book." Piper reminds Raige that the demon in question slays with a dagger and thus has hands, thereby narrowing the field of possible suspects. Raige is ruffled once more, by the way. Fortunately, tonight's blouse is a deep forest green, so the flounces at her neck are more easily ignored than those of the Horror. Raige casually mentions that she heard Piper and the Dolt intend to introduce children into the Manor. Piper halts in mid-pace, raising an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that from?" she ungrammatically inquires. Raige admits that Phoebe told her all about it, then apologizes for breaking "some sort of sister confidentiality clause." Piper brushes this off, and denies that she has any desire to reproduce. "It's too risky," she asserts. A child "would be in constant danger around [them]." Raige pries a bit more, wondering what the Dolt thinks about all this. Piper allows that the Dolt believes there is enough magic flying around the house to ensure the safety of any small child. "Maybe he's right," Raige leads. "Maybe he's not," Piper says curtly, and orders Raige to continue her search. Raige pages past enchantment spells and the entry for time loops before pausing yet again. Drawing upon her Social Services reserves, Raige lets Piper know that there are ways for potential parents to experience the pitfalls of child care prior to pregnancy. Piper sardonically replies, "The time you pass a baby rental, pick one up for [the Dolt]." "Maybe I will," Raige breathes, the cryptic retort slithering past her overly-glossed lips as the Dolt himself orbs into the attic. He's all business in his orange thermal shirt, asking whether the attic Ps have learned anything about tonight's demon while he was consulting with The Powers That Be. Piper and Raige have scried for the meanie using "the slime from the last victim," and Phoebe and Cole have been sent to the resulting coordinates. The Dolt exposits that with two witches already dead, TPTB are getting tense. Meanwhile, Raige has stumbled across a promising entry. She reads, "Upper-level demon who likes to kill witches using [a dagger], sometimes [Flaming Balls Of Death], and his name is Belthazor." The camera cuts to Belthazor's entry, and it says none of these things. I know. I read it. I think I even transcribed part of it at some point in the past. Should we create a cross-referenced Mighty Big TV Index so that those responsible for these scripts no longer make mistakes such as this? Kidding. Like we're going to do their jobs for them. Anyway, Piper and the Dolt snicker at each other upon hearing the name, and tell Raige why she's fingered the wrong demon. No, not like that. Perverts. As she gazes at the rendering of Belthazor in the Book, Raige expresses shock. While she knew Cole was half-demon, she didn't realize his demonic half was Darth Maul.
The cordless rings. Phoebe and Cole have reached "Battery and Clay," but they don't sense a demonic presence. Make sure you're sitting down: Battery and Clay really exists. It's about four blocks from the Embarcadero. Whether or not the actual intersection features a dank, forbidding alleyway filled with Convenient Shipping Pallets Of Grave Bodily Injury is for someone else to discover. Piper passes the phone to Raige and turns to scry once more for tonight's demon. Raige snides something to Phoebe about Cole morphing into his demonic form as the scrying crystal slams down onto the map at Battery and Clay again. Raige tells Phoebe that the demon is still at the intersection just as the demon himself drops down from the sky behind Phoebe and Cole. If I knew more about comic books, I'd be able to tell you which one the costume and makeup crew raped to create this guy. He's wearing some sort of black PVC diaper with leggings, and his bald head and torso are slathered with oily black body makeup. A painted green hourglass begins high up on Diaper Boy's forehead, slides into a point at the bridge of his nose, and flares back out to end at his upper lip. The green tape he shoots out of the palm of his right hand wraps around Phoebe's ankle to drag her up into the air. Cole grips both of her wrists as the two struggle against the demon's pull for a moment. Finally, Cole releases one of Phoebe's hands long enough to hurl an FBOD at Diaper Boy. Diaper Boy immediately explodes into a cloud of green and black goo. The force of the explosion tosses Phoebe and Cole down the alley onto a pile of discarded rags, Phoebe hooting all the way. Cole lands on his back with Phoebe smack on top of him. Green slime has spattered them both, but they giggle and snicker doofily as Phoebe snorts, "We have to stop meeting like this." "Marry me!" Cole pants joyously. Phoebe's snickers halt at once. "What?" she bites. Cole's giddy grin melts a bit as he realizes what he just said. Phoebe's glossy lips gape as we slide into the credits.
"I can hear you thinking what I feel. I know that what we've got is real." Where do the producers find the crappy alterna-ovary folk shit they use under the opening travelogues, anyway? "And all we need to get us through is to live like lovers do." This is atrocious, even for Charmed. The alterna-ovary wails and wails until at last we land in the Manor hall as Phoebe and Cole enter through the front door. "Don't you think we should talk about this?" Cole asks. Phoebe dissembles, "Talk about what?" The two remain spattered with the goo, but Phoebe has pulled her slimy hair back into a low bun. Piper descends the stairs to greet them: "Wow. Looks like you got a juicy one." Ew. Also, snerk. Cole smirks happily as Phoebe tells Piper the "juicy one" isn't the demon responsible for the two witchy murders. "Upper-level demons have a human form," Cole explains. "And they bleed red, not green." Phoebe bolts for the stairs, intending to take a shower and scrub the goo from her hair. She also wants to check the BoS "for the demon [she's] wearing." Cole believes they need to chat. Phoebe believes that denying she heard his proposal will mean he never made it. Piper believes that she has no idea what the other two are talking about, but a tinkly little chime hits the soundtrack as it dawns on her that romantic foolery is afoot in Halliwell Manor. Phoebe curtly instructs Cole to focus on vanquishing that witch-slaughtering demon. Piper pulls an hysterical pop-eyed-while-sucking-on-alum face as she whips her ponytail back and forth between the two. Cole is adorably tousled and bright-eyed as he masks his disappointment with an affable offer to search the underworld for further information. Seriously, the guy is all blue-eyed, rosy-lipped, green-smudged, clean-shaven gorgeous here. Were Phoebe not such a neurotic intimacy-issues freak at the moment, I'm certain she'd be inviting him to join her in the shower. Cole's smile fades just a bit as he turns and squiggles out. Phoebe growls in frustration. Piper asks in a sugary-sweet tone of faux concern that clearly indicates she's up for some gossip, "Honey? Did you two just have a fight?" Phoebe doesn't want to talk about it and scampers up the stairs. Piper fixes her face with a determined look, and follows Phoebe to the second floor.
“ 'I'd like to report a terrible murder. A beautiful young woman in the alley behind the Cannon Theater.' Were I the emergency services operator who received this call, I'd immediately assume the person on the other end was the killer. ”
Random alley. A steroid-enhanced demon squiggles in, all Darth Maul markings and hamhock biceps. According to the Internet Movie Database, the gym rat they hired to play this demon previously appeared as the bouncer in "Size Matters," so if, unlike me, you still have that on tape, you can see what he looks like without the makeup. "Wiiiiiitch," he growls, and claps a hand over a squealing little blonde woman's mouth. He pushes her back against a Dumpster and examines her necklace with the blade of the dagger he carries in his right hand. The charm dangling from the chain is in the form of three intertwined crescent moons. "You're ," he seethes. He guts the woman with the dagger, then allows her corpse to drop to the ground. The gym rat turns to stride over to a nearby pay phone, morphing into a thirtysomething (who bears a faint resemblance to Garth Brooks in a suit) as he goes. The Garthalike punches in a number and -- adopting a tone that aims for innocent shock but ends up at mild blandness -- states, "I'd like to report a terrible murder. A beautiful young woman in the alley behind the Cannon Theater." Best as I can tell, there is no Cannon Theater in San Francisco, but that's not terribly important right now. What's more important is that, were I the emergency services operator who received this call, I'd immediately assume the person on the other end was the killer. I mean, "terrible murder"? "Beautiful young woman"? The choice of words added to the tone of voice should be more than enough to set off the alarms. A random twit interrupts the Garthalike: "Hey! Are you gonna be long?" The Garthalike sets the receiver down momentarily to fling an FBOD at the unsuspecting twit. The twit howls as he hurtles backwards to scorch a brick wall before disappearing in a veil of fire. The Garthalike returns to the phone, instructing the emergency services operator to send the police immediately before hanging up. The Garthalike squiggles out. The first time I saw this, I was left to wonder why the Garthalike chose to incinerate the twit, but called in the police to investigate the blonde's murder. I supposed they needed a way to justify Dorian Gregory's presence in tonight's episode, but Brad Kern and Nell Scovell, the clever co-authors of this evening's script, eventually proved me wrong.
“ Raige eases past with the Garthalike bacon on a china plate, shooting Cole a filthy look like she just realized she'd been living with Ted Bundy for the last few weeks. Honey, weren't you just drooling over the guy a couple of episodes ago? ”
Cigarettes are my anti-drug.
Manor hall. Aftermath. "He's a killer!" Emma screams. "What is the matter with you people?" Piper attempts to restrain her as Phoebe tries to explain how Cole's status has altered since the last time Emma encountered him. Emma's having none of it and snatches up Cole's dagger from a nearby table. In what is a pretty damn cool bit of business, she whips it at him end over end, but he grips onto the hilt at the last moment, the blade inches from his throat. Excellent. "How can you defend a murderer?" Emma demands of Phoebe. "How can you live with yourself?" She spins on her cowboy-booted heel and storms out of the Manor. "Is she right?" Raige acidly inquires from a Victorian loveseat. "Are you the one who killed him?" Cole's silent, but cannot bring himself to meet her eyes. Phoebe tells Raige now is not the time -- they have another demon to fry. She asks Piper and Raige to brew up the Garthalike vanquish. Raige eases past with the Garthalike bacon on a china plate, shooting Cole a filthy look like she just realized she'd been living with Ted Bundy for the last few weeks. Honey, weren't you just drooling over the guy a couple of episodes ago? Fickle bitch. Piper appears to be wearily overwhelmed by this turn of events. Phoebe quietly endures the stares from both of her sisters, then turns with the sotto voce, "We need to talk." Cole mutely follows her upstairs, and thus begins the segment of the episode that took me completely by surprise. Details to follow, of course, including my irritation at how Kern and Scovell tried to have it both ways, but this scene is where it began.
Phoebe eases open the door to her boudoir and allows Cole to enter. He tentatively runs his thumbs up and down the dagger's handle as he murmurs, "Don't tell me you're scared of me." Phoebe's little floral choker seems to have evolved into a sentient being during the trip upstairs. The roses have migrated to the left side of her neck. Cole admits that he believes Emma is right. The dagger is his; he did kill her fianc, even though he can't remember doing so. "I don't even remember what he looked like," he continues as he sits on her bed. "Didn't matter what they looked like, only that I did as I was told. He was a witch; The Source viewed him as a threat." Cole's starting to babble. Phoebe shushes him as she crosses to his side. She knows what Cole once was, and she doesn't care because he's not the same person anymore. "Aren't I?" he asks. The demon continues to lurk within his fine self. Doesn't that matter at all? Phoebe urges him to consider all the good he's accomplished since then. Cole ponders this, then ruefully reaches a conclusion: "Doesn't balance out. Doesn't even come close." It was at this point that I checked my notes to make sure Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon had nothing to do with this episode. They've slid into a bizarre dialogue on the necessity of forgiveness, the possibility of redemption, and the merits of discarding the life of one who has taken the life of others, regardless of the good that person might accomplish in the future. Is rehabilitation something one guilty of crimes so horrendous can achieve, and how is it determined who is allowed that second chance? Given that potential future good acts can never compensate for past bad ones, should second chances even be considered? Was Karla Faye Tucker a redeemed woman or was she the same sociopath who had multiple orgasms while hacking someone to death with a pickaxe? Don't worry. The writers cock the whole thing up eventually. At least some things are consistent on this show.
“ Left alone, the Dolt holds up the scorched brat, and its left leg drops off to the floor. It would have been amusing were it not for the accompanying Belching Oboe Of Baby Care Gone Horribly Awry. ”
Just then, the Dolt enters from the dining room, cradling the scorched bionic brat in his arms. Piper's all clutching her pearls and "Honey! What happened?" as if she hadn't hoped the brat had long since been sent to Hell. "Sykes," is the Dolt's pitiable, monosyllabic reply. Aw. The Dolt is so sad. "I guess you were right," he glums further. If he had a lower lip, it would be trembling right about now. Piper claims that she didn't want to be right, and strokes his arm. Raige rightfully rages, "Who's gonna pay for this?" Piper shoots her a look, then turns back to the Dolt. The three are on a Garthalike hunt, so the Dolt had better make himself scarce and take Calf-Length Kathy with him. She kisses him on the cheek and exits, a sullen Raige and nonchalant Cole following closely behind. Left alone, the Dolt holds up the scorched brat, and its left leg drops off to the floor. It would have been amusing were it not for the accompanying Belching Oboe Of Baby Care Gone Horribly Awry.
Random city street. Phoebe, amazingly enough, has steered the Jeep Grand Cherokee right on over to Emma's current coordinates. She jumps out and makes with the begging. You know those tacky plastic flag holders that have been advertised on late-night television almost from the day the Trade Center fell? The ones that come with the removable flag stickers and three or four miniaturized Old Glorys all for the low, low price of $19.95 if you send your check or money order to the address on your screen? Yeah, well the props crew dialed the 800 number and now one of them's on the Cherokee, complete with small flag. Classy. Anyhoo, Emma, arms crossed tightly across her chest, tries to ignore the Feebs and fails. Phoebe knows that nothing she says to Emma can alter the past, but "there is something that might help." Phoebe wants Emma "to know that Cole has dedicated his life to good now." Emma aggressively rolls her eyes and takes off down the sidewalk. Phoebe takes off after her, stammering, "And I'm not saying it excuses what he did." "Damn right it doesn't," snorts Emma over her shoulder. Phoebe continues, "All I'm saying is that the demon you're looking for no longer exists." Emma stops dead in her tracks at this outrage and flails her arms around as she turns to smack Phoebe down. "Oh. My. God! Who are you trying to kid? Are you blind?" No, Emma, but she is a little on the dim side. Emma ignores me. "Did you not see what he turned into? That monster still exists whether you want to believe it or not." Phoebe, out of her league, starts, "Technically, yes. But..." "Not technically," Emma interrupts. "Actually. He's alive, and I'm not going to rest until he's dead no matter what you say." She's reminding me of every Oklahoma City relative who was incessantly interviewed way back in the closing weeks this past spring. "All that would do is keep him from doing future good and put your life at risk in the process," Phoebe argues. She continues, a bit more self-servingly: "Please -- please. Let it go." "'Let it go'?" Emma demands incredulously. "Have you ever lost someone? To [Eeevil]?" "Yes," Phoebe whispers meekly. "And did you just 'let it go'?" Phoebe's silence is more than enough of an answer. Emma gazes at her as if Phoebe wouldn't even be worth wiping off the soles of those cowboy boots of hers, then turns to go. You know, considering how lightweight this show normally is, this episode makes it feel like I'm recapping The West Wing by comparison.