The Fifth Halliwheel

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.

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.