P3. The usual gang of two-drink-maximum idiots clamors at the entrance while Piper, Phoebe, Raige, The Sole, and the Dolt cluster around a set of low, translucent, drum-shaped tables down near the dance floor. The diffused glow from the tabletops casts soft, foot-lit shadows across the faces of the gang. Piper's been making a positive change with all the redecorating at the nightclub, it would seem. Raige toasts, "To marriage!" and the five clink their various beverages together. The Sole has a beer, Piper and the Dolt enjoy gin and tonics, and Phoebe and Raige stupidly toast yet again with Perrier-brand bottled water. Heartache and tears, ladies. Heartache and tears. Phoebe gnaws on The Sole's earlobe as the two slump back into their sofa. "Hey!" Piper pouts. "This is supposed to be our anniversary," indicating herself and the Dolt. There's Dolt bloat going on across the guy's face, by the way. It looks like he sat out in the sun two hours too long, and now his skin is swelling from the ultraviolet overexposure. Maybe Piper better rethink those luminous coffee tables. Low sources of light can be terribly unflattering when you're the Dolt. As The Sole dives down into Phoebe's neck, Phoebe mumbles, "To Piper and [the Dolt's] marriage -- may ours be as successful as theirs." "Yeah," Piper deadpans. "That still didn't sound like it was about us." The Sole slides his hand up Phoebe's thigh, and she giggles wildly as they neck. Piper and the Dolt mack away on their own sofa. Raige glances back and forth uneasily, more than a bit nauseated. Word, Raige. Love your look, though. Her hair falls about her face and shoulders in soft curls, and the Jungle Red lipstick for once does her pale complexion a favor. Raige's simple, off-the-shoulder dress is an early-eighties Studio 54 throwback that she wears well, despite the fact that its pallid yellow tone is several shades too light for her coloring. After an awkward pause, Raige rises to excuse herself. Personally, I would have bolted for the bar to down several shots in quick succession as soon as The Sole jammed his hand into Phoebe's nether regions, but I suppose Raige has a stronger stomach than I do. The Sole yanks his hand out of Phoebe's lap and protests that Raige can't leave before "the good part." I'm not gonna go there. Make your own family-that-plays-together joke. Ew.
Raige sighs and eases herself back into her chair, snarking something about watching the gruesome foursome make out all evening. Phoebe apologizes for her inexcusable behavior, and there's a bit of banter about Phoebe taking to marriage as well as Piper promised she would. Basically, this snippet of conversation serves only to set up the primary conflict of the evening: Entangled as they are in wedded bliss, the gruesome foursome can't keep their hands off each other, and Raige is getting sick of it. Join the club, sweetie. We're not seventy seconds into the episode, and I'm already disgusted by the pawing and the giggling and the groping and the heedless exchange of bodily fluids. Little did I know the first time through this scene how much more distressing it would all become before the end of the hour. "So...the good part?" Raige prompts. The Sole leaps to his feet to retrieve an envelope from his bag on the floor. Without rinsing his hand first. He passes the envelope to Piper and the Dolt. "Oh, my God!" Piper breathes, silently scanning the pamphlet she finds therein. The Sole wags his filthy hand around dismissively and claims, "It's nothing." "It's 'The Finest Hotel in Hawaii,'" the Dolt counters, clearly reading the promotional copy from the pamphlet's face. I mean, could you identify the finest hotel in Hawaii simply by reading its name from a flyer? Didn't think so. The Sole "just didn't think it was right" that Piper and the Dolt "never got a honeymoon." Phoebe coos in admiration at her man's romantic and generous ways.
Raige, flabbergasted, asks, "You got them tickets to Hawaii?" No. The Sole paid for a hotel room and a couple of dinners. The two will have to orb to Waikiki on the wings of the Dolt. Piper's delighted. Raige, however, doesn't quite get it. "Aren't you unemployed?" she asks The Sole. "How did you afford this?" The Sole claims that the answers to those questions are "tomorrow's surprise." He grandly lofts his beer in his filthy hand to offer another toast to the anniversary couple. As he swigs back a gulp from the neck of the bottle, The Sole catches sight of D'Eartha lurking near the dance floor. The Sole gags on his beer. D'Eartha glowers regally. The Sole excuses himself and wanders off, presumably to the kitchen to plunge that hand of his into the deep fryer. Once he's gone, the following exchange occurs:
Raige: "So, you think Cole won the lottery or something?"
Phoebe: "I know I did."
Raige, the entire animate population of the North American continent, and several of the more clever varieties of mold: "Ecch."
Down in Hell, The Sole blazes into the Chamber Of D'Eartha. "I was with the entire family," he snipes as he strides across the room. "Have you lost your mind?" D'Eartha begs forgiveness for her ill-advised trek topside, but she requires The Sole's presence "if [her] ritual is to take effect." D'Eartha fiddles with a steaming cauldron suspended from a large wooden tripod adorned with goat skulls as The Sole pours himself a highball from a silver ewer. Okay, listen up, people. D'Eartha's about to offload a garbage scow of exposition onto your heads, and she wants you to pay attention. "Tomorrow's harvest moon will be your one chance to impregnate your wife," D'Eartha tells The Sole. Wrong! Sorry, D'Eartha. Try again. The "harvest moon" is the full moon closest to the autumnal equinox. The moon closest to the vernal equinox is the "worm moon." Distasteful, I realize, especially given the current situation, as the name could easily lend itself to jokes of the "one-eyed wonder worm" variety. On that awful note, I'll point out that November's full moon is the "beaver," and move this along. According to D'Eartha, the power of the moon combined with her potion will make Phoebe "fertile to demon seed." It will also "override any preventative measures [Phoebe's] taken." I assume D'Eartha refers to the Pill here, and can you imagine that nitwit Phoebe tangling with the Pill's complicated regimen? Of course, there are other options, but I don't need to imagine Phoebe's uterus spontaneously expelling an IUD once she's swallowed D'Eartha's potion. And I just saw this Rachel Griffiths movie on HBO where Griffiths's character struggles in the bathroom to insert a cervical cap for a good five minutes, and that certainly isn't an image I need to associate with Alyssa Milano at this juncture. Damn. Anyway, D'Eartha will blend the potion into a batch of chocolate. The Sole must feed Phoebe the chocolate the morning, then "finish the job when the moon is high in the night sky." If everything works as it should, "the evil spawn growing inside [Phoebe] will influence her own evil leanings so that when she does discover the truth [about The Sole], she will bend to [his] will." "She will bend to her love for me," Cole smirks, and I just got a mental image of Alyssa Milano bending That Way, and this is all far too disturbing for a pre-credits sequence. D'Eartha approaches The Sole with a dagger, drags it across his palm, and leads The Sole to the cauldron. The Sole spills a dozen drops of his blood onto a goat skull in the cauldron, and we head into the opening credits.
Hey. Whatever happened to their damn cat, anyway?
Manor bathroom, the following morning. Raige applies lipstick while Phoebe borrows her blush and this episode's director assaults the audience with a barrage of "uniquely angled" shots of the action. Piper pops in, bitching about a broken hair clip. The three engage in sisterly banter of the sort I'm to find "playful" and "endearing," as it's meant to indicate how at ease they are with each other. Unfortunately, the conversation revolves around the hot and heavy rounds of Hide The Salami Piper and Phoebe played with their respective spousal units the night before, so the banter ends up striking me as "appalling" and "depraved." For what it's worth, Phoebe and Piper opine that marital intercourse is "better" and "more intimate" than the sort of fun Raige has had with her various slampieces in the past. Raige rolls her eyes at this, but chooses not to dispute their claims at this time. I should dispute their claims for her, but as marriage has been placed off-limits for me and my kind, I can't really speak to the issue. I can, however, ask a question: If marriage really does improve existing relationships to the extent these ladies claim, why did Alyssa Milano divorce Cinjun Tate's bald ass less than a year after a minister placed a marriage license in her hot little hands? Oh, and look at that. I just confused an actress with the role she was playing.
"Actress." Sometimes I just crack myself up.
Phoebe invites Raige along on a lingerie-shopping expedition, but Raige begs off. She has to go "to that evil place where they keep [her] paycheck." A car horn honks repeatedly outside the Manor. One by one, the gals flee the bathroom. The last to leave is Phoebe, who first fluffs her hair in front of the mirror. I just noticed that Phoebe's current hairstyle is the same one Julia Roberts had in The Mexican, only Julia wasn't sporting the Phoebangs. And you know what? Even without the Phoebangs, Julia Roberts looked like ass. Makes you think.
Phoebe emerges first from the Manor, followed closely by Piper, Raige, and the Dolt. They find The Sole standing proudly over a new silver Porsche. "A new car!" calls the Dolt, apparently auditioning for a slot on The Price Is Right should Ron Roddy ever follow Johnny Olsen to the grave. This, then, is The Sole's second surprise. Seems he took a job at a law firm downtown, and the Porsche is his "company car." Raige finds this difficult to believe, as The Sole "didn't last two hours at legal aid." Piper recalls The Sole's assertion that he hated being a lawyer. The Sole shrugs this all off, noting that legal aid was a lot of work for very little money. This new job, however, is quite the opposite. He presents Phoebe with a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. Phoebe remains grimly silent for some reason. I believe we're meant to interpret this as Phoebe's way of indicating that she has doubts about the provenance of The Sole's new employment -- that perhaps to her mind something demonic is afoot. However, given her earlier incessant bitching about the inequity of gender roles in "traditional" marriages, she's coming across as sullenly jealous and spiteful. The Dolt, exhibiting heretofore-unknown genital issues, only has eyes for the Porsche. The Sole grabs a box of Phoebe's "favorite" chocolates out of the car, and reveals that he's made reservations for them at the Mark that evening. Phoebe melts at this and giggles that she and Piper have some shopping to do. Piper pleads P3 duty, but the Dolt assures her that he can cover for her. The Sole leans in to Phoebe and waves The Threatening Box Of Confectionery Portent under her nose. There's a brief pause before Phoebe simply pecks him on the mouth, perks, "I love you!" and jiggles off down the sidewalk to join Piper in the Jeep. The Confectionery Portent remains in its box, unmolested.
"So, what law firm you working for?" Raige wonders, and it's about damn time someone asked that question. Those would have been the first words out my mouth, at any rate, and I would normally expect Piper to blurt them out as well. Unfortunately, judging from her actions later in this episode, it appears that Piper banged the brain right out of her skull against her headboard last night, so it's up to Raige to suss these things out for everyone. The Sole gently tests Raige's knowledge of San Francisco law firms, and, upon learning that she deals with a number of them daily, he ventures an answer. "Wolfram and Hart." Kidding. It's a place called "Jackman, Carter, and Klein." Or, as the captioning would have us believe, "Jack, McCarter, and Kline," but we all know how fast and frisky the captioning can be with the facts. In any event, Raige stores this morsel of information away in her head, congratulates The Sole on his good fortune, and wanders off to her Volkswagen. The Sole sighs, tosses the unmolested Portent onto the passenger seat of the Porsche, and dangles the car keys in front of the Dolt's face. The Dolt, giddy as a schoolgirl, grabs the keys from The Sole's hand and darts behind the wheel, leaving The Sole to pace alone on the sidewalk in front of the Manor.
A jarring sequence of thirteen jump cuts of the Golden Gate Bridge, the downtown business district, the Transamerica Pyramid, and the city waterfront eventually lands us in a lingerie shop. I suppose that should read "an 'upscale' lingerie shop," for every piece of merchandise is on a padded hanger. Phoebe emerges from the dressing room in a floor-length lavender satin chemise and models the garment for Piper. The Fun Bags, meanwhile, are doing their best to emerge from the chemise's flimsy lace cups. "What do you think?" Phoebe asks. A nearby gentleman of the heterosexual persuasion whoas briefly at the sight before his girlfriend beats him with a chiffon teddy and drags him out into the street by his ear. Piper thinks the message Phoebe's chemise sends is, "I'm going to wear this one night and spend the six months paying it off." Phoebe huffs her way back to the dressing room in a snit. "I hate it when you're right," she pouts. Piper notes that with The Sole now pulling down some major cash, Phoebe really can buy whatever she wants. This sends Phoebe into a frenzy about how she refuses to rely on a man for her upkeep and how she has a college degree and should be able to support herself and what she really needs is a job of her own and blah, like she hasn't been freeloading off Piper, Raige, and The Late Lamented for the past three and a half years. Piper makes with the "being a Charmed One could be considered a full-time job" nonsense, but Phoebe's having none of it. She wants to use her "skills" to help people "in a non-magical way."
Just then, the blare of car horns and squealing tires invades the shop from the intersection outside. Piper and Phoebe turn in time to catch sight of Molly Hagan weakly dodging traffic in the street. Some of you might remember Molly from Herman's Head. For those of you who successfully soaked your brains in lye to rid yourselves of the memory of that show, you might know her from Election. As you can see, I remember her from both. Lye isn't all it's cracked up to be. ["I, meanwhile, remember her from Some Kind of Wonderful, so -- yeah, no kidding." -- Sars] "Speaking of helping people," Piper begins, and the two hustle out to the sidewalk. They arrive as a taxi threatens to flatten Molly into the asphalt. Piper freezes the entire block -- which also contains about a dozen people waiting to board a city bus -- which allows Phoebe to dash into the street and knock Molly onto her ass out of harm's way. Piper unfreezes the scene and joins Phoebe at Molly's side after the taxi safely skids past. The gals pick Molly up from the pavement and loudly praise the taxi's brakes for the benefit of the bystanders, who natter animatedly amongst themselves. Molly, distracted, mutters something about meeting a deadline and getting to work. Phoebe takes her arm and is flung into a vision. Molly, striding through a darkened alleyway. A corporate Nazi, pursued by forces unseen. The corporate Nazi flings a glowing orb into Molly's back and disappears. Molly slams against a wall and shudders. "Phoebe?" Piper breathes. "Innocent," Phoebe replies, indicating Molly. "Of course," Piper grits, and takes Molly's other arm to lead her out of the frame.
THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES. Raige plays with her hair and groans, "I still don't trust him!" Lila The Grunge Queen silently examines her fingernails for dirt, desperately resisting the urge to eviscerate Raige for flaunting her ability to wear horizontal stripes to the office. The actress playing The Grunge Queen is from Chicago, by the way, and was one of my ex-boyfriend's passel of friends from high school. However, I promised not to drop the dime on her in my recaps, so no tales of LSD-fueled shoplifting sprees will be found here. Joke! That was a joke! Becky Wahlstrom is a lovely and talented lady, and every single casting agent reading this should give her serious consideration for prominent roles in upcoming feature film projects. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Raige phoned Wolfman, Carteris, and Klart and discovered that The Sole was being truthful about the new job. Lila fails to see the significance of all this. Raige bleats that "there's something off" about The Sole, and she intends to "keep an eye on him." Lila pffts and zeroes in on an Etch-A-Sketch as Phoebe calls from the Jeep to arrange for Raige to meet the others at the Manor in order to address the Molly Hagan situation.
Manor. D'Eartha growls, "What do you mean, 'She wouldn't eat it'?" The Sole explains Phoebe's failure to partake from The Threatening Box Of Confectionery Portent. D'Eartha considers this for a moment, then notes that the potion should be strong enough to ensure the proper results if Phoebe takes it within the hour. The potion must "gestate," you see, before The Sole nails Phoebe that evening. Piper and Phoebe unexpectedly barge through the front door with Molly in tow. The Sole waves a hand over D'Eartha, morphing her up into a stocky, bald marshmallow of a man in a cheap suit with an earring. D'Eartha's going to be pissed when she sees what he's done to her. Phoebe and Piper splutter a couple of code words at The Sole, who passes off the stranger as one of his law clerks. He instructs the D'Erk to head back to the office. The D'Erk mumbles, "Excuse me," and makes for the door. He pauses in front of the hall mirror, glances at his reflection, and lets loose with a barely perceptible roll of the eyes. Snicker. Then he steps onto the front porch and rays down to Hell.
Meanwhile, Phoebe and Piper introduce Molly as "Karen Young" and ease her onto a sofa in the parlor. Molly attempts to relate her version of the incident in the alleyway, but breaks down into a neurotic, wracking series of sobs. Piper promises they will do their best to help her as Phoebe drags The Sole into the hallway for a chat. She fills him in on her premonition and adds, "We might have to postpone this evening, baby." The Sole protests mightily. When Phoebe reminds him that the interests of the stray innocents they drag back to the Manor trump all other concerns, he immediately backs off and hastily agrees with her. He retrieves a bulbous Portent from its box on a nearby table and offers it to Phoebe by way of apology. Um. I thought he left those in the car. Whatever. Phoebe hesitates for a beat, then bites into it. "Mmmm," she moans, and attaches her lips to his. Piper interrupts this unseemly display and asks The Sole to guard Molly while she and Phoebe head to the attic for a little research in the Book of Shadows. As Piper passes The Threatening Box Of Confectionery Portent, she grabs one of the candies and shoves it into her mouth. "Uh, Piper?" The Sole starts, then thinks the better of it and allows her to swallow the Portent. "For some reason, I suddenly can't wait to go on my honeymoon," Piper notes as she drags Phoebe up the stairs. The Sole smirks and stifles a chuckle. Well, somebody had to laugh at that joke, I suppose.
The Sole crosses into the parlor and asks Molly what happened to her earlier in the day. She snaps that she can't remember. The Sole glowers with impatience and places a hand above her head. A cone of blue light streams from Molly's hair into his palm as he asks, "Who attacked you?" Molly leaps to her feet all, "Stop touching me! Leave me alone! He's touching me!" The Sole swivels his head to see who received the last bit of that outburst and finds Raige standing behind him, twiddling her car keys nervously in her fingers. The three stand in tense silence for a moment before we cut away to commercial.
Back from the break, The Sole suddenly sports an alarming amount of cherry-red gloss on his lips. "I didn't hear you come in," he remarks in a threatening tone. Well, it's meant to be threatening, but with all that crap on his lips, the only modifier that really applies here is "simpering." We get a reaction shot of a cautiously quiet Raige, and then the gloss disappears. The glossless Sole approaches her and cracks a wide smile. "You look like you saw a ghost." No, she's just as freaked as I am that your lips can extrude and retract shiny rouge of their own accord, Sole. "I don't know what I saw," Raige hesitantly replies. "What were you doing to her?" Gloss on! The Sole puckers his lips. Gloss off! "I was comforting her," he explains, crossing away from Raige while gesturing to the sobbing Molly on the couch. Gloss on! The Sole shoots Raige a look of puckered concern. Piper and Phoebe clomp down the stairs with the Book of Shadows. Phoebe flings herself into The Sole's arms. "We have a problem," Raige states. Gloss off! The Sole stares at her from above Phoebe's head. Raige stammers that she meant they have a problem with Molly. Piper flips the Book open to an illustrated entry on "Demonic Power Brokers." A charcoal drawing approximating the corporate Nazi from the premonition glares out from the page. Gloss on! "Of course," The Sole says, releasing Phoebe from the embrace. Phoebe and The Sole's glossy lips explain that Demonic Power Brokers occasionally store "power balls" in unsuspecting humans to prevent mercenaries from stealing them. Raige reads from the entry: "A human being possessed of a demonic power will become confused, then frightened, paranoid, violent, and demonic, and will ultimately die if the power isn't withdrawn." Oh, God. This is a reference to crystal meth addiction, isn't it? No points for subtlety. Like this show ever earns any of those. As Phoebe exposits that a potion may be brewed to draw unwanted powers out of victims, The Sole surreptitiously wiggles his fingers over his jacket pocket, activating his pager. Gloss off! The Sole pretends he has to head back to the office and leaves, ominously eyeing Raige as he slides past.
Molly jumps up from the sofa to announce she must leave as well, as she has "a family to take care of." I think we're firmly in "frightened" territory here. The Ps calm her down again, convincing her to remain in the Manor. Piper offers to head to Molly's place of employment to settle things with Molly's boss, "Elise," but Raige quickly argues that Phoebe should be the one to go. Piper's "the best with potions," after all. Raige hands Phoebe the keys to the Volkswagen, and warily watches her exit. As soon as Phoebe's out the front door, Raige attempts to tell Piper what she saw. Piper cuts her off immediately. "There is nothing demonic about Cole," Piper insists, "and whether you like it or not, he's your brother-in-law. So whatever issues you have with him, you're going to have to take care of yourself." Piper slams the BoS shut and books out of the Manor to fetch some hyssop for the potion. Raige, exasperated, turns her attention to Molly. "Can I ask you a couple of questions?" Molly darts her eyes around like a pudgy-cheeked Renfield.
Outside, Piper climbs into the Jeep and drives off. The Sole watches her go from his car down the block, then pulls the Porsche up to the Manor steps. The Sole stares at the house from the street below.
Up in the parlor, Raige is having little luck extracting a coherent story from Molly. As a signal we're heading into the paranoia phase of Molly's decline, Molly ends the exchange with, "Who are you? Why did you bring me here?" The Dolt dolts into the background, asking for Piper. Raige crosses to him, explaining where Piper's gone and who Molly is and whatnot before leading him to the window seat for a private confab. "I think I saw Cole using magical powers," Raige whispers. The Dolt is shocked -- shocked -- at the news. Raige elaborates on her suspicions. There are the extravagant gifts and the fifty-thousand-dollar "company car" to consider, in addition to what she believes she saw him doing to Molly. Something's not quite right with the guy, and she's surprised she's the only one who notices. The Dolt is of the opinion that Raige is the only one who wants to notice such things. Raige is outraged. What the hell is that supposed to mean? It means that "no one wants to be the fifth wheel," the Dolt explains, and there he goes with the episode title. He then upbraids Raige for "judging Cole on his past." Raige gapes as the Dolt stands to exit.
Out on the porch, the Dolt carefully pulls the front door shut behind him, then blazes out. D'oh! The Dole! So sneaky is The Dole, is he not?
Down in Hell, The Dole blazes into the Chamber Of D'Eartha to find the D'Erk impatiently tapping his foot in the dirt. The Dole morphs back into The Sole. "Well, it's about time," snips the D'Erk. The Sole waves his hand around, and the D'Erk morphs down to D'Eartha. This morphing? Is starting to annoy. The Sole tells D'Eartha that Raige saw him using his powers. D'Eartha insists that Raige must die. The Sole has other plans. The death of Raige would seriously dampen Phoebe's libido, thereby placing the conception of The Sole's heir at risk. The Sole intends to enlist the aid of a power broker. If Raige is infected with a power ball, and if The Sole can hasten her resulting decline, Piper and Phoebe will already be on their respective honeymoons before Raige can convince them of The Sole's demonic nature. Raige will then die alone, unwanted and unloved, unnoticed in the Manor. D'Eartha seems to see the wisdom in this. The Sole plants himself in a high-backed Gothic chair and flicks a jazz hand at the floor. A Corporate Nazi whooshes on in, squatting for some reason in his dark suit. The Nazi snipers to the dirt. "Who did this?" he peeves in a nellie squeal as he brushes himself off, and I think I just realized why he was squatting. "Who pulled me here?" The Sole rises and allows those black beetle eyes to roll around in his skull. The Nazi drops to one knee in obeisance. Or something. The dry-cleaning bill for his pants must be enormous. The Sole promises the Nazi powers unimaginable if the Nazi completes the mission he'll be assigned. The Nazi is raring to go.
Phoebe storms into the offices of The Bay Mirror, a tabloid that advertises itself as the "Newspaper of the Year." Her outfit bears description. It also beggars it. She's wearing a long-sleeved, scoop-necked, tight white shirt under a loosely-crocheted pink wool poncho trimmed with long, dangling tassels, over a hobblingly-tight knee-length denim skirt with fringe at the hem. At her throat is a blood-red choker with pieces of mother of pearl woven into the pattern. "Wow," says a passing reporter, though neither in disgust nor in disbelief. "Hi," he wolfishly continues. "You are?" "Married," Phoebe goofs. The Fun Bags, despite the layers of clothing, jut like a massive silicone ice shelf trapped in pink netting. That the strap of her shoulder bag bisects the Fun Bags does little to lessen the effect. Phoebe asks the reporter man to point the way to Elise's office. He does so silently. Phoebe adjusts her purse to cover her ass, like, that's not the protrusion he's staring at, moron, and heads over to a closed door inlaid with opaque glass. Before she can knock, Elise Rothman, Girl Editor pops out. Phoebe explains that she's there to account for Molly's absence. Elise explains that Molly's fired. Long story short, Phoebe bluffs her way into learning that Molly's an advice columnist with an eight o'clock deadline and a whopping pile of unanswered mail. I see where this is going, and I didn't find it amusing when it involved Charlie Sheen and went by the title of Good Advice.
However. Remaining with Phoebe as she charms her way through the combative and cruel world of cutthroat urban journalism to become a celebrated, nationally-syndicated dispenser of judicious, sage, and heartfelt advice would be preferable to what comes . An electric guitar wah. Wah. Waaaahs on the soundtrack as the camera skims the bar top at an empty P3. Piper's off-screen shrieks of delight join the wah-wahs as her cell phone chirps on the bar. Piper -- clearly naked -- pops up from below to answer her phone. They're...not.
They...couldn't.
WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME?
Avert your eyes, children. Lord, how I wish I could avert mine. Over in Molly's office, Phoebe inquires as to the status of the potion. "P-p-p-potion?" Piper stutters. Yes, she's stuttering. Which means that the Dolt's down there somewhere on the floor, doing something unimaginably horrid to a body part I never needed to know Piper had, with a body part of his own that I really don't want to imagine, and oh! Look! There's the Dolt now! COMING UP FOR AIR! He still has his shirt on, which I would count as a minor miracle were it not for what follows. Piper manages to note that Raige is mixing the potion proper. As the Dolt plants a hickey on the back of her shoulder and moves his hands somewhere out of sight, Piper pants that she has "ten. More. Minutes!" left before she has to return to the Manor to add the hyssop. Phoebe, oblivious, relates the details of Molly's precarious employment situation, and asks how she should respond to a twentysomething woman in Marin County who's still living at home with her parents because she's afraid of being alone. The Dolt goes south. Piper gasps.
Sorry. Nope. I'm sorry. I can't do this. And here's why: Shortly, the Dolt will poke his head above the bar again as Phoebe attempts to discuss Marooned In Marin's dilemma with Piper. And do you know what happens then? Do you? DO YOU? Piper lets out a howl of shocked and surprised pleasure that can only mean one thing. I'll give you two words that should clue you in on what I think the Dolt is doing to her, given that -- in his current physical position -- there can be no other thing that he's doing to her at this moment, and then I'm fast-forwarding ahead to Raige in the Manor kitchen. You ready?
Fatty Arbuckle.
Heinous.
So, the Manor. The kitchen in the Manor. The kitchen in the Manor with Raige. And Molly. Molly at the table in the kitchen in the Manor, muttering dark nonsense like she's seen the face of Satan himself and the sight has churned her scattered little brain into oatmeal. Yeah, honey. Whatever. You know what I just saw, and you don't see me fleeing the tattered remnants of my sanity, do you? Wimp. Molly screams that she has to leave, and flips the kitchen table upside down. Raige flies from the center island to stop her. "After you have the potion," Raige soothes, "you can go anywhere you want." "You're trying to poison me!" Molly cries. "You're working for that bitch Elise! I'm going to kill her before she kills me!" Molly shoves Raige to the floor and bolts for the front door. Raige orbs out of the kitchen into the hallway, blocking Molly's path. Molly pushes her aside and grabs at the doorknob. The Sole enters and wraps the writhing advice columnist in his arms. The Corporate Nazi then smokes into the hallway behind Raige. The Sole shoots him a quick nod of the head, and the Nazi hurls a power ball into Raige's back. Raige staggers against the wall from the impact. The Sole tackles the Nazi through the oft-abused marble-topped entrance table and yells, "[Raige], get her out of here!" Molly, panicked, whips her hands out defensively against Raige. Jets of heat spurt from Molly's palms, crisping the insides of Raige's arms. Yee-ouch. I scalded the inside of my arm once, so I know how painful it can be. Then again, Raige is part of an hour of television that just made me watch the Dolt violate Piper with a Coke bottle, so fuck Raige and her third-degree burns. Molly sprints out the door as Raige's arms sizzle and smoke. Raige summons the Dolt, who promptly orbs in with Piper. He immediately moves to apply the tingly touch to Raige's bubbly skin, like, wash those disgusting hands of yours first, you pervert. The Nazi, meanwhile, boots The Sole to the wall. "Power broker," shouts The Sole. "Blow him up!" The Nazi on the carpet makes a pretty amusing "the hell?" face before Piper dusts him. She squints suspiciously at The Sole for the briefest of moments before wondering where Molly is. Raige, still suffering from her burns, hyperventilates us into commercial.
Manor kitchen. Raige feels a bit woozy, but she attributes this to the aftermath of her run-in with the advice columnist, not to the sudden appearance of the Corporate Nazi in the Manor hall. While Raige transfers a clear yellow potion from a flask into three small vials, Piper warns Phoebe via the cordless that Molly's on the loose, and she's got acid spraying from the palms of her hands. Phoebe's still at Molly's desk, only she's donned a pair of reading glasses like she's suddenly starring in The Front Page. Given Molly's final rant before she fled the Manor, they determine that she's headed to Elise's office to fry the bitch. Phoebe babbles something about meeting her deadline, and hangs up. Piper announces that she'll head over to the newspaper with two of the three available vials of potion. Raige offers to orb her there, but The Sole nixes that idea. It would be better for the Dolt to escort Piper, he argues, as the Dolt can apply the tingly touch should Molly attack with that acid of hers. Raige clearly does not want to be left alone with The Sole, but Piper wordlessly dismisses the negative body language and orbs out with the Dolt. The Sole grins and approaches Raige. "You don't still have a problem with me, do you?" he oozes. "I saved your life out there." The voices in Raige's head dictate that she must flee the kitchen, and flee she does. The Sole casually knocks Raige's vial of the potion onto the floor, where it shatters.
The One-Eyed Wonder Moon hangs in the night sky above San Francisco. In the offices of The Bay Mirror, Phoebe asks Piper how one spells "oblique." Molly tears into the front room and pounds a copyboy to the floor. Phoebe, unconcerned, taps away at Molly's computer. Piper lures Molly into her own office and slams the door just as Phoebe sends her article to the printer. Once Molly realizes she's been tricked, she spews acid from her hands at the Glamorous Ladies. Piper slides to one side as Phoebe dodges the spray by leaping sideways onto the wall. Molly's monitor melts. Piper freezes the demented dispenser of advice and tosses a vial at Phoebe, ordering her to forcibly pour the contents down Molly's throat if she has to. As Elise approaches to collect Molly's assignment, the Dolt blocks the door with his own body. Piper unfreezes Molly and holds her down as Phoebe dumps the potion into Molly's mouth. Molly collapses into a couch and, presently, the power ball emerges from her body to float away. The Dolt finally allows Elise entry, and she immediately barks out an order for Molly's copy. Phoebe hands over a sheaf of papers. Elise scans the first item and snorts in amusement. "You should be sick more often," she tells Molly. "This is good stuff." Of course. Of course that's what she says. Having thus informed the audience that Phoebe is a writer of no small talent, Elise spins on her heel and stomps away. Molly graciously thanks an overjoyed Phoebe for saving her ass.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, The Sole hurls a Flaming Ball Of Death over a terrified Raige's head. It splinters through the roof of the attic. With a flick of his hand, the roof repairs itself. All the while, The Sole soothingly mouths innocuous questions like "What's the matter?" and "Are you sure you're okay?" Raige scrambles away from him on her hands and knees, weeping and wailing and gnashing her teeth. Rose McGowan is doing a pretty damn good job with Raige's slide into the snake pit here. If I neglected to mention that Julian McMahon is also quite skilled at The Sole's brand of sadistic menace, it's because we already knew that. Anyway, the scene carries on like this for a bit, with The Sole pleading choirboy innocence while pulling choice goodies out of The Big Bag Of Demonic Tricks while Raige whimpers on the floor in terror, desperately and futilely willing away what she's seeing. Phoebe rings The Sole's cell phone from The Mirror, and he effortlessly smooth-talks her into meeting him at the Mark. He also manages to persuade Piper and the Dolt to orb immediately to the hotel in Hawaii. Raige cowers beneath a desk. After The Sole hangs up, Raige sprints wildly towards the door. The Sole stops her dead in her tracks by blazing up in front of her. Whatever composure Raige had left shatters and she meekly bleats, "Stop it. Why are you doing this to me?" "What's the matter?" he asks coolly. "Seeing things?" He turns and strides out of the attic, slamming the door shut behind him. Raige loudly and extravagantly loses her shit, barreling through the room, smashing furniture with her hands. She finally flings open her fingers at the dollhouse, which explodes into shrapnel when white bolts of electricity shoot from her palms. Raige gazes bleakly at her own hands and collapses in tears to the floor. Raige's low-slung jeans magically morph into plumber pants as she curls up into the fetal position on the Oriental rug and her ass crack greets the commercial break.
Raige flies down the stairs and stalks through the main floor, calling for The Sole. She uses those white bolts of light to grease both a mirror and a framed photo of Phoebe and Cole. As the charred remnants of the photograph float to the carpet, her eyes light up with a realization. A dark smile crosses her lips as the scene cuts to the hotel room of Phoebe and The Sole. Raige must have been up in that damn attic for an awfully long time, for Phoebe and The Sole have already done the deed and are now munching on potato chips in bed. The Sole's even had time to shower, and I must admit he's looking mighty fine in that white towel of his. Raige orbs in and vanquishes a section of the wallpaper. Phoebe, shockingly, quickly realizes that Raige must be infected with one of those power ball thingies she's heard so much about lately, and attempts to calm her down. Meanwhile, The Sole slyly retrieves Phoebe's vial of the potion from her purse and lets it shatter on the floorboards. Raige keeps lunging at The Sole, shouting, "He's evil! I have to stop him!" Phoebe's had more than enough and calls out for the Dolt, who orbs in with Piper. I'd mention their leis and the coconut-shell cocktails, were those items not so trite and so very tiresome. Oops. Raige's eyes flip shiny-beetle black as Phoebe struggles to restrain her. Piper grabs a candlestick and beats Raige over the head with it. Raige drops to the carpet, unconscious.
The Dolt kneels at Raige's side and applies the tingly touch. It of course heals her head, yet for some reason she remains unconscious. Piper asks for the remaining vials of potion. The Sole's sexy, white-toweled self is "forced" to admit that they've both been broken by the unconscious loon on the floor. Piper assumes that Raige's earlier warnings about The Sole were merely the early symptoms of infection. She beats herself up about that for a bit before Phoebe runs her hand across Raige's cheek and announces, "She's burning up." If they don't come up with another way to extract the demonic power from Raige's body, she'll die. Glycerin wells in Phoebe's eyes as she insists that "this can't be happening again." Well, sure it can, if you've had Rose McGowan fired while we weren't paying attention. Phoebe turns her glycerin-streaked visage to The Sole, begging for something -- anything -- that will save her sister. The Sole looks guilty and depressed. He sighs that if they can capture another Corporate Nazi, they might be able to convince him to remove the ball from Raige. He asks the Dolt to orb him into the underworld alone. Phoebe and Piper insist that they all will go, despite The Sole's warnings that the Ps powers might not work in Hell, thereby leaving the entire party defenseless. Phoebe streaks off into the bathroom to get dressed as Piper and the Dolt hoist Raige's lifeless body from the floor. The Sole sits alone, brooding and such.
Down in Hell, three identical copies of the vanquished Corporate Nazi from earlier trade little glowing balls amongst themselves. Too funny. Were I a spiteful bitch, I'd assign each the name of a coworker I hate. Oh, wait. That's right. I am a spiteful bitch. While Jon Singer tosses Peter O'Connell a glowy orb and Ethan Hollander witnesses the trade, The Sole and the Dolt cautiously poke their heads around a corner to watch. Piper chooses to throw caution to the wind and stomps right on over to the Nazis' table. "Sorry to interrupt," she announces, "but I think one of you may have lost a power." Jon, that smug, sexist pig, rises first to demand, "Who the hell are you?" Back at the alcove, The Sole orders the Dolt to join Phoebe and Piper while he hauls Raige over. Piper makes with the Power of Three threats, but Jon The Smug, Sexist Pig isn't buying it. With one witch down, there is no Power of Three, he reminds them. Piper tries to blow him up, but the impact of her weakened power is only enough to push him back a few paces. Piper bluffs that "that was just a warning" shot and that time, she'll "use full force." To her surprise, the bluff appears to work. Peter The Sniveling Toady and Ethan The Ivy League Idiot immediately drop to one knee and bow their respective heads. The Smug, Sexist Pig remains standing. We soon see why The Toady and The Idiot are scraping their foreheads against the ground. The Sole is shooting them the flippy beetle eye from behind Piper's back. When The Smug Pig asks The Toady, "What the hell are you doing?" Peter smokes him with an FBOD. You should have done that years ago, you worthless little shit. At The Sole's silent behest, The Toady and The Idiot hover over Raige and extract the power ball. Raige recovers immediately and stands beside Phoebe. Before the Manor gang turns to leave, Piper flicks her hand, destroying the remaining power balls with one gesture. "Hmph," she snarks. "Had enough power to do that." Raige, Phoebe, Piper, and the Dolt file out. The Sole hangs back and, addressing The Sniveling Toady and The Ivy League Idiot, raises a finger to his lips to hiss with a smirk, "Shhhh!"
Over in D'Eartha's neck of Hell, The Sole quietly contemplates the wedding band on his finger. D'Eartha appears, out of focus in the distance over his shoulder. "Why would you save [Raige] after everything you did to destroy her?" The Sole claims that the Ps would have managed to save her anyway. This way, he gets the credit. "Did you do it for the credit?" she asks rhetorically. "Or did you do it for love? I suppose there are some things even The Source can't defeat," she finishes snidely. The Sole wheels on her with a warning. She dismisses him, so you know she's more than a bit peeved. They've worked too hard, she reminds him, "to let a nugget of humanity destroy a legacy of evil." She claims that Cole saved Raige, not The Sole. The Sole avers that once Phoebe's knocked up, there's nothing Cole will be able to do to harm them or their plans for the baby. He asks D'Eartha to scan the future to see if Phoebe does indeed have a demon in the oven. D'Eartha's eyes cloud over for a moment. When they clear, she announces, "I see conflicting futures. Only time will tell." With that, she rays away from the loser to whom she entrusted the world's evil.
P3. I'd refer to tonight's guest band as The Whitss, but as that show's got both feet in the grave and is merely waiting for someone to come along to kick the dirt back into the hole, I suppose I'm going to have to come up with a new nickname for these people. For what it's worth, the singer looks like Eve Ensler, if Eve Ensler bothered to have those unsightly warts removed from her face. Over at the Halliwell table, the Glamorous Ladies snicker about Raige nearly orbing in on Phoebe and The Sole in flagrante. Molly eases her way through the crowd to inform Phoebe that she's The Bay Mirror's new advice columnist. Molly decided she'd rather spend more time with her son than put up with her bitch of a boss, so the job's Phoebe's if she wants it. Terrific recommendation there, Molly. Did I mention that because of the infection, neither Molly nor Raige can remember the events of the day? Well, I just did. Molly thanks the gals once more for their help, and leaves. The Ps jokingly toast each other, but the toast turns ugly when Phoebe realizes that Molly set her demonic sights on Elise because Elise was already the object of Molly's rage. It follows that in Raige's deep little heart of hearts, there lingers an overwhelming animosity for Cole. Raige insists that she doesn't hate Phoebe's husband -- she just can't find it in herself to trust him. Phoebe runs from the table to the bar in a furious snit. Piper takes a beat to determine which sister needs her more at this moment, then tags along after Phoebe. Raige is left alone once more, and even though both her hair and her salmon-pink top are fabulous, she is so very sad. The camera tracks back from the table, and various two-drink-maximum club goers obscure Raige from the audience's view as we fade to black.
week, the Dolt finds himself assaulted by gentlemen who've been dead for nearly sixty years, but you wouldn't know that from the previews. Take it easy.