If I told you I was watching a glistening, half-naked man with a long, blunt weapon approaching a Benedictine monk from the rear while the closed captioning read, "[grunts]," "[breathing heavily]," and "[man chanting in a foreign language]," you'd think I was watching some bizarre European gay bondage video, right? Oh, admit it. You would. And you'd be wrong. It's simply the opening shot of tonight's episode. Cole porn for the masses, if you will. Well, Cole porn, if Cole were a set of identical twins who do man-on-man S&M videos for the rent money. So Cole, half-naked, glistening, grunting, breathing heavily, and wagging a big old sword around, enters a chamber half-lit by an unseen source of red light. Gripping that sword of his with both hands, he silently approaches a cowled, chanting figure. Just as Cole prepares to plunge the weapon into the monk, the monk calls, "Wait!" Because, you see, the task at hand would be so much easier if the monk removed his robes first. The monk turns around and lowers the hood of his cowl, and it's Cole again, all sharp bone structure and pouty lips. "You don't really want to hurt me, do you?" simpers Cole The Second. Well, I suppose that depends on what's meant by "hurt" in this context. "But how?" pants Cole The First. The Second's answer is a mighty bitch-slap that sends The First tumbling backwards through the air to land on the sandy floor on his back. Two tops, battling for dominance. So sad. You think they'd be a little more versatile. "We're one now," The Second states, slowly approaching the prone First. "I'm reborn within you." Kinky. And narcissistic. "I'll fight it -- I'll kill us both if I have to," promises The First, being coy in that porn way where the gym bunny claims he doesn't want it until the point where he really, really does want it after all. Or something like that. Cole The First continues, "I won't let you hurt Phoebe." Who? Sorry, it's just that Cole has more chemistry with himself than he ever does with her. "You won't have a choice," notes The Second, plunging the sword into The First's body at some point well south of his navel. Cole The First screams, and...
...wakes up in his own bed in the Bimbo Boudoir. He's still sweaty, shirtless, and panting, only this time Phoebe's snoozing away at his side. He gasps a few more times before flinging the covers off of his legs into a wipe that takes us to the opening credits.
"Chaderm DEMARCH MARCHED RACHMED ACHDERM HARDMED ARCHEMD RACHEDM EDCHEMA CHMARED CHAREMD CHARMED." Yep. Still the same. What? It was a short pre-credits sequence. I was bored.
“ Make up your freaking minds about this thing or have Phoebe pull a Heche and start dating a female Elvis impersonator, because this shit is just tired. Phoebe sighs, 'It feels like there's something else.' Yeah, Phranc crooning 'Only The Lonely,' so get off the stick and get on her Harley already. ”
Oven-cam. Piper lugs a baking tray of some breakfast treats out of the oven and totes them into the dining room, bellowing for Phoebe and Raige. The Dolt, of course, is already at the table, ready to eat the food he neither paid for nor prepared. In answer to Piper's summons, Raige flies down through the ceiling from the second level of the Manor in a cloud of orbs. She materializes fully just in time to slam into Piper, sending both women to the floor. The Dolt continues to eat. Piper's surprised, not by her husband's gluttonous, free-loading ways, but rather by Raige's newfound talent. "Did you orb in from a different room?" she asks, impressed. Actually, the closed captioning has her asking Raige if she "warp[ed]," but, you know, screw the deaf. Raige confirms this while admitting she still needs to iron out the kinks. Raige then spots the alarming array of food on the table and darts to a chair to tuck in. Seriously, Piper is such a martyr. She's prepared a full-scale breakfast for five, complete with place settings and serving platters and pitchers of milk and orange juice and whatnot. Get a hobby, sweetheart. Or a life. The Dolt starts talking through a mouthful of half-chewed food, which only makes me hate him more. He mumbles that orbing burns a lot of calories, thereby explaining Raige's unusual craving for solid food. "Why do you think I married a chef?" he adds, winking. Oh, stow it, you boorish, sexist lout. Piper deems the expansion of Raige's powers "another reason to celebrate" while Raige and the Dolt shove frittatas into their gaping maws. Seems Piper intended this breakfast banquet to be a celebration of sorts for vanquishing The Source. A week ago. She couldn't have done this on Sunday? Raige apologizes for her lack of table manners, insisting that she would take longer to eat did she not want to arrive at THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES on time for a change.
Phoebe plows down the stairs at this moment to let Piper know that Cole's left the Manor already, and all she needs is "a caffeine I.V." Piper gets strident about everyone else's apparent indifference to the death of their collective "mortal enemy," as Raige bounds out of her chair to race to work and The Powers That Be ring the Dolt's bell. The Dolt guesses the Elders want to convey a message of congratulations to the Glamorous Ladies, and orbs out with a croissant. Phoebe winces as if hungover and mutters, "Does he have to do that so brightly?" Piper sighs and collapses into the Dolt's chair with, "Well, that will teach me to be in a good mood." Snicker. Girl talk ensues, of the "what's up Phoebe's ass this episode?" variety. Phoebe went to bed last night feeling fine, then woke up this morning with a vague sense of doom involving her fianc. "It feels like a premonition that's trying to come out," she explains, "but it never quite does." Piper diagnoses this as yet another case of pre-wedding jitters, but Phoebe has her doubts about that. Piper shushes her, arguing that "the only reason" Phoebe hasn't married Cole is because The Source was still lurking about. Now that The Source is dead, Phoebe is "that much closer to taking [a] very long walk down the aisle." That wailing siren you all hear is my bullshit alarm going off. First Phoebe wouldn't marry Cole because he was half-demon. Then she wouldn't marry him because he was fully human but had yet to find his place in the mortal world. Then Phoebe backed off because of some supposed fear of commitment engendered by her parents' divorce. Then it was because she feared a loss of identity made manifest by a cursed engagement ring. Now it's simply because The Source was lurking about? Make up your freaking minds about this thing or have Phoebe pull a Heche and start dating a female Elvis impersonator, because this shit is just tired. Phoebe sighs, "It feels like there's something else." Yeah, Phranc crooning "Only The Lonely," so get off the stick and get on her Harley already.
“ Is there some Spelling rule that says, 'Girls can be bouncy and perky and show off their tits but can't be trusted with power,' perhaps? Face it, the Glamorous Ladies are pretty much earthbound tools for the presumably-male Elders. (Shades of Charlie's Angels, if you think about it, where Kelly, Jill, and Sabrina did all the work and John Forsythe got the business, the credit, and most of the cash.) ”
Hell. No, that was not an expression of frustration; it was a reference to the location of the scene. Cole blazes all Source-like into The Chamber Of D'Eartha. D'Eartha has not changed her clothes since the last episode, but given Eilish's unfortunate habit of chomping on a crack cookie before making any major costuming decisions, it's probably for the best if Debbi Morgan remains in that sedate pashmina poncho of hers for the remainder of her tenure on this show. Cole seethes, "How did I get here?" D'Eartha claims The Source's power drew him to her lair, and she sees Cole accepting that power very soon. Cole clamps his right hand around her throat and shouts, "You never told me I'd become The Source if I helped vanquish him!" D'Eartha reminds him that she foresaw the two of them "doing great things together." Vanquishing The Source was simply the first in a long line of collaborative efforts. Agonized, Cole drops to his knees. Not for nothing, but the boy has been dropping to his knees a lot lately. Cole vows to fight the pull of The Source's powers and blah, D'Eartha notes that those powers would have overwhelmed him already were he not "clinging so vigorously" to his love for Phoebe and wah, and then the two really get frisky with the exposition. Once Cole dumps Phoebe and allows The Source to "fully assimilate" him, The Source's powers will "protect" Cole from Phoebe's premonitions. However, before that can happen, D'Eartha and Cole have to see to "Kurzon," a challenger for The Source's throne. Hell is in chaos due to the presumed death of The Source, and Kurzon is plotting an uprising to wrest control of the underworld for himself. At the moment, Cole is not "shtron geenuf" to vanquish Kurzon, but the Charmed Ones are. D'Eartha plans to convince Kurzon that the Glamorous Ladies are preparing to attack him. Meanwhile, Cole is to ensure that the Ps can defeat him. Cole flatly refuses to follow D'Eartha's orders. D'Eartha gets a wicked glint in her eye and reminds Cole that even if he is unwilling, The Source is more than happy to do as she wishes. Cole blazes out just as suddenly and unexpectedly as he blazed in. D'Eartha smirks.
A short sidebar, just to digest all of the new rules they threw at us during that last exchange. So The Source Of All Eeevil is merely an agglomeration of powers that can be transferred from host to host and not an individual that has existed since the beginning of time. Okay. That agglomeration, having been Eeevil for centuries, would not be affected by any reservations the new host might have about joining the dark side, so The Mythological Forty-Eight-Hour Window Of Brad Kern Yanking This Out Of His Ass has no bearing on Cole's current situation. No problem there, I suppose. The agglomeration can somehow be vanquished on its own, allowing The Throne Of Hell to be occupied by others, as hinted at by this Kurzon person's planned coup. Gotcha. Cole, therefore, is not really Eeevil at the moment, he's simply possessed -- or infected, if you will. If the gals can figure out a way to knock The Source out of him, everything will be fine. I can live with that. Here's the problem: Why would D'Eartha not have absorbed The Source into herself when The Hollow was banished once more to its crypt? And don't give me that line of crap about Cole having a "void" in himself where Belthazor used to exist, thereby making it easier for the agglomeration to infect him. The Belthazor half of our favorite demonic boy-toy is completely gone and has been for months. Since D'Eartha's so eager for power, why didn't she snatch it up for herself? Is there some Spelling rule that says, "Girls can be bouncy and perky and show off their tits but can't be trusted with power," perhaps? Face it, the Glamorous Ladies are pretty much earthbound tools for the presumably-male Elders. (Shades of Charlie's Angels, if you think about it, where Kelly, Jill, and Sabrina did all the work and John Forsythe got the business, the credit, and most of the cash.) I realize that Cole's character was going nowhere without his Eeevil side, but would it have broken some Law Of Aaron for them to hire Debbi Morgan as the new Source or something?
“ Kurzon stands in the center of a circle of minions, exhorting them to complete their assigned yet never-defined tasks before nightfall. The actor playing Kurzon is a pretty, bland, standard-issue lunkhead who would not be out of place on JAG. Not that I ever watch JAG. I've seen pictures of the cast. Shut up. ”
Whatever. Cole blazes into a bathroom at the Manor and staggers over to the mirror to stare at his reflection for a bit. Cole looks like Robbie Williams, and by that I mean it looks like he just woke up from a weeklong bender involving booze, whores, and anthrax. Good job with the haggard make-up. He takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to pull himself together, before he steps out into the upstairs hallway. Phoebe nearly runs right into him and asks where he's been. He mumbles some excuses, then grips his head in pain. He claims he has a migraine and pushes past her to head downstairs. Piper wanders in, wondering what's going on. Phoebe sighs, "I wish I knew."
The scene cuts to what appears to be an abandoned garden supply store. Kurzon stands in the center of a circle of minions, exhorting them to complete their assigned yet never-defined tasks before nightfall. The actor playing Kurzon is a pretty, bland, standard-issue lunkhead who would not be out of place on JAG. Not that I ever watch JAG. I've seen pictures of the cast. Shut up. Most of the minions squiggle out as D'Eartha wanders in from the shadows. "You will not live to lead the underworld," she warns slyly. Kurzon bites, asking D'Eartha what she's seen of his future. She tells a tale of a lone powerful witch who's drawn a target on Kurzon's back. If he doesn't take this witch out, he'll never be the king of Hell. The remaining minion -- a shorter gent with unruly hair -- gives D'Eartha the once-over and pissily snipes, "Her loyalties are with the last Source. Don't trust her." Catfight! D'Eartha shoots the underling a look that would sear the paint off the side of a battleship as Kurzon asks her why she's offering him her assistance. She's a creature of habit, she claims -- one who repeatedly allies herself with "the ultimate power." Should Kurzon off this unnamed witch, nothing will prevent him from becoming the Source. Kurzon smiles, letting us all know he's bought this line of B.S.
THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES. Raige wanders into Bossman Bob's office, and holy Christ, what the fuck is she wearing? She's got on this orange tank top with yellow piping over a thin rainbow-patterned belt with a gold-plated double-pear clasp, which is bad enough. The part of the outfit that shoves good taste straight off a cliff is the bit below her waist. A chocolate-brown Madonna mini-kilt over brown jeans. I'd wonder what she was thinking with this outfit, were it not clear her brain orbed out of her skull to puddle on the carpet while she was getting dressed this morning. Ew. So, Bossman Bob rises from his chair with an overly-serious, "I'm gonna miss you, [Raige]." Raige immediately sputters out excuses for her habitual tardiness. Bossman Bob shuts her up. He'll miss her, he clarifies, as an assistant, because she's being promoted to full-fledged social worker. Raige is ecstatic, and becomes even more so when she learns the promotion comes with a "flexible work schedule." Shyeah. "Work." Pull the other one. Raige does have one question, however. She thought that "Scott" was in line for a promotion, as he has a couple of years' seniority over her. Bossman Bob reveals that Raige's success in helping Collagyn regain custody of her son tipped the scales in her direction. "You worked a miracle with her," Bob notes admiringly. Raige's face falls as she mutters something about personal gain. She recovers quickly to thank Bob for the opportunity, and turns to head back to her cubicle. The passed-over Scott offers an apparently genuine congratulations as Raige glides by his desk. Raige looks guilty. Honey, Scott has a mullet. Don't fret too much about stealing that promotion away from him.