Fade up on the Manor kitchen and oh, Lord. It's going to be an evil night for fashion, kids. Phoebe sits at the table, tapping away at the keyboard of her product-placed Apple laptop, and -- her hair. An asymmetrical part shears the left third off to one side, and another part across the front cuts off the Phoebangs from the hair proper. The majority is pulled back into two demonic pigtails that sprout from the crown of her head like flaccid horns. She's wearing eyeglasses and a crimson beater over white sweatpants that appear to be spray-painted onto her unpantied ass. Seriously, my notes for the evening start out with, "She's kidding with this, right?" And you know what's really frightening? The clothing just gets worse from here on out.
Yuck. So, anyway, Raige tramps through, declining Piper's offer of "wheat-germ pancakes" in favor of a bagel. Wise choice. The Sole, in the background, babbles something about his cream-cheese-smeared depositions, then reminds Phoebe of a corporate function they're to attend that evening. The Sole wants to "show off [his] new bride" to his colleagues. Phoebe, rather than castrating him with her fingernails for that rabidly sexist remark, whines that she's on a deadline for her piddling little advice column. Piper chooses this moment to shove the platter of wheat germ pancakes under Phoebe's schnozz. "I know you want some of these," Piper prompts. "What I want," Phoebe singsongs patronizingly, "is quiet." "Pissy little bitch," Piper mutters under her breath, turning to slam the platter onto the center island. "If you want quiet, what the hell are you doing in the goddamned kitchen?" she demands, snatching up a skillet from the stove. Oh, Piper. Please whack Phoebe in the head with the frying pan. For me? "Dude. Word," Raige chimes in through a mouthful of bagel. "She can't work in her fucking bedroom?" "Exactly my point," Piper agrees, flinging the skillet into the sink with a clatter, and I weep for the missed opportunity. "Take it upstairs if you don't want to be bothered," Piper adds with a glare. "Idiot."
Phoebe, self-centered monster that she has become, ignores them as the Dolt orbs in off to the side to rifle through the kitchen cabinets for his toolbox. The Sole quietly flicks his hand at the toaster, which explodes. The sound sends Raige spinning around in alarm, and the platter of pancakes shatters on the floor. "Could everybody please be quiet?" Phoebe screams. She then notes with dismay, "Oh, no. My battery died." "They're called 'power cords,' jackass," Raige sneers as she squats to clear up the mess on the linoleum. "You might want to try one sometime." The Sole squints at the smoke detector on the wall near the ceiling, and the alarm's shrill beeping floods the room. The Dolt levitates upwards to shut it off as The Sole sidles over to Phoebe's side. "You know," he whispers in her ear, "you'd get all the quiet you want if we had our own place." Piper's sharp ears pick this up and she calls out, "She'd get all the quiet she wants if she hauled that lazy ass of hers up the fucking stairs." The Sole shrugs and announces he has secretaries to interview that morning. He pecks Phoebe on the lips and wanders out to the front door. Phoebe gathers up her laptop and heads off in search of silence in a furious snit. The Dolt eyes her exit, then turns to Piper and Raige. "You know, if I'd known what an demanding bitch she'd turn out to be, I'd have left her to fry down in Hell and saved Prue instead."
There's my version of this show, and then there's what actually appears on my TV.
Piper crosses to the Dolt's side, cooing, "Honey, you look tired." The Dolt reveals that the Elders "have been piling it on ever since [the Glamorous Ladies] took out The Source," and he's been forced to work overtime as a result. The Elders are the most useless forms of life in existence, and yes, I'm including gay Republicans, Scott Bakula, and Eilish in that statement. Raige idly wonders what's up with the toolbox. Seems the Dolt is posing as a "heavenly handyman" again, and those are Piper's words, not mine. This time, he's to persuade a "potential Whitelighter" to keep her job as a schoolteacher by using a little "inspiration." The only thing I can imagine the Dolt "inspiring" anyone to do is to swear off men forever. "Speaking of inspiration," Piper awkwardly segues, "it's the sixtieth anniversary of the battle of Guadalcanal." And? Will this information inspire some poorly-paid public schoolteacher to carry on conjugating Latin verbs for a disinterested audience of surly adolescents? Well? Apparently not. Rather, the local veterans' association is sponsoring a reunion, and Piper arranged for the two of them to attend. "I can't be seen there," the Dolt snaps, a bit too hastily. Piper explains that she passed the Dolt off to the event's coordinators as one of his own grandsons, so there shouldn't be a problem. The Dolt snippily replies that there is indeed a problem: He wants nothing to do with the reunion -- indeed, never would want anything to do with the reunion -- and Piper would have known this had she bothered to ask. He snatches up his toolbox and orbs out in a huff. Piper and Raige raise their eyebrows at each other as if to ask, "What crawled up his ass and exploded?"
Cross-fade to the veterans' association in question. A matronly woman in a maroon cardigan sorts through a pile of reunion responses at her desk while two transparent gentlemen quietly observe her. The transparent gentlemen are played by Costas Mandylor -- late of Picket Fences and, more recently, the Sex and the City episode where Samantha tries to seduce a priest, like, nice try, but you're the wrong gender, sweetie -- and his brother Louis. The Brothers Mandylor are clad in tight green t-shirts, form-fitting fatigue pants, and combat boots. I can just imagine the Dolt-related slash fiction their presence in tonight's episode will inspire, and to be honest with you, the thought is making me ill. Especially after the nightmare that was last week's episode, if you know what I mean. So, Costas and Louie are sixty-year-old ghosts, and they've been silently haunting the San Francisco Veterans' Administration headquarters for all six of those decades. Louie's more than a bit fed up with this dull routine, and wants to see if the invitation matron scares easily. "Just let me moan once," he begs Costas. "One of those bone-chilling moans. Could be the wind. Could be a ghost." Could be a naked Louie Mandylor in my...oops. Did I type that out loud? "Just watch her," Costas orders. Louie's had it. "We've been watching this place for years, man, and we're never going to find what we're looking for." Louie wonders why they bother hanging around the place if they're not going to have any fun. Costas calls Louie "bro" and reminds him of a long-ago promise they made to protect each other, which makes no sense whatsoever given what follows. Also: "Man"? "Bro"? Who the hell used those forms of address in the 1940s? Oh, that's right. No one. Stupid ghosts.
The Invitation Matron interrupts this mangled exposition to mutter, "Well, this is something." The Mandylors edge their spectral forms closer to peer over her shoulder at the letter she holds in her hands. Costas notes that "[the Dolt's] grandson is gonna attend the reunion with his wife." "I told you one of them would show up eventually," he adds, just so we know why these two losers have been hanging out at the V.A. for sixty years. They attempt to read the return address from the envelope, but the Invitation Matron blocks their view. "Can I scare her now?" Louie asks. Costas is all, "Go for it," so Louie lets loose with what the captioning identifies as a "low howl." The Invitation Matron jumps from her chair, gasping. Her eyes dart around the empty room as she clutches her pearls in shock. "One-three-two-nine Prescott Street," Louie reads from Piper's twee address label, and makes to leave. Costas tells him to hold up for a second. Now that they've finally found what they've been looking for, he wants to experiment with a couple of tricks he's learned over the years. Costas closes his eyes and fades out. Presently, the keys on the Invitation Matron's ancient DOS computer click seemingly by themselves. The words "I AM COMING FOR YOU" appear in an endless string on her green-screen monitor. Can't we get Congress to spend a little more money on the V.A. so they can upgrade their computer systems? Jesus. The Invisible Spectral Presence of Costas then plays with the Venetian blinds for a bit before zipping to the other side of the room to hurl around some books and papers. The ISP of Louie joins in, flinging open filing cabinets and whatnot. The Invitation Matron races to one of the office doors, only to be greeted by Louie's disembodied head. "Boo!" he shouts gleefully into her face. The Invitation Matron screams and flies to another door. With one long, continuous shriek, she flees the office and wails her way down the hall. Costas gives chase before Louie grabs his arm. "We're after [the Dolt]," he reminds his brother. "Not her." Costas glowers into the opening credits.
Manor sun porch. Phoebe has planted herself at the wrought-iron table and types away on her laptop. Apparently, she's followed Raige's earlier advice and is now using a power cord. Raige herself stomps in from the parlor to ask, "Have you seen my keys anywhere?" "No," comes the curt response. "Why don't you orb them into your hand?" That last bit was me. And everyone on the forums, evidently. Piper enters, remarking that the Dolt is ignoring her pages. She can't believe the Dolt would be so upset about a simple reunion. "I don't know," Raige snarks. "Maybe it's because he died at Guadalcanal?" She clomps back into the parlor to look for her keys. Orb them into your hand, Raige. Piper allows that while the Dolt did meet what I hope was a hideous and painfully lingering end on that particular island, "he died a hero." As if that's supposed to explain why he wouldn't be ambivalent about revisiting the experience. Piper asks Phoebe for her opinion on the matter, but Phoebe just throws another tantrum about needing silence to meet her deadline.
Meanwhile, Raige is still not orbing her keys into her damn hand. She does, however, find them buried in the sofa. She cries out in triumph, then turns to find Louie standing on the stairs. "Who are you?" she yelps. "You can see me?" he asks. "More like through you," Raige clarifies. Piper darts to Raige's side, in time to catch Louie disappearing through the wall. Phoebe makes Louie's appearance all about her as she gripes that a ghost infestation is the last thing she needs. Piper tells Phoebe to go back to her column. Piper will head to the attic to "brush up on [her] ghost-busting" skills with the Book of Shadows, to prepare for the likely possibility that Louie is not a ghost of the Casper sort. Raige quickly volunteers to blow off THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES for Book duty. Drooling freely through her magenta lips as her eyes glaze over with lust, she calls Louie "a piece of man-hunk history," and wanders off upstairs. I'd go with "bo-hunk," honey, and also, get in line. Piper chuckles because she finds horny siblings amusing, rather than off-putting and inappropriate. As the soundtrack mauls "Taps," Piper turns to retrieve a framed black-and-white photo of the Dolt in his dress uniform from a nearby table.
The camera pulls in to give us a terrifying close-up of the Dolt's grinning, crinkly mug before pulling back to reveal the same photograph on a WALL OF HONOR over at the V.A. The nameplate beneath the frame belies the episode title, identifying him as "Corporal" Dolt. I have to believe he was the beneficiary of a posthumous promotion, because I reject the idea that he attained that rank while he was still breathing. Also, the nameplate tells us the Dolt was born May 6, 1924, and died November 24, 1942. Where do I start with that? The Dolt is supposed to be eighteen? On which planet? He's thirty-six if he's a day, and the crow's feet on his face would have us believe he's even older. And get this -- in a few scenes, we're going to find out Louie and the Dolt graduated high school together, which means the younger Mandylor is also supposed to be eighteen years old. Well, either that, or severely retarded. Does that make Costas Louie's father? Grandfather? What? Help me out here. And while I'm at it -- while it's nice they managed to have the nameplate give the same year as the Dolt's birth certificate, how do they explain Pre-Dolt and Baby Dolt stomping around San Francisco at the exact same time?
Whatever. WHATEVER. The camera tracks back from the WALL OF HONOR to reveal Costas staring sullenly at the Dolt's aforementioned crinkly mug. Louie wafts in to note that the Dolt's "grandson is living the good life." "Not for long," Costas promises. Louie hesitantly mentions the three witches who are sharing in that good life, and suggests Costas call off their whole sins-of-the-father plan. Costas blathers something about the Dolt "trapping" them "in this hell on earth," and vows to exact vengeance. Costas and Louie's Australian accents fade in and out throughout this exchange, which I would find tedious and annoying were I not staring at their upper bodies in those tight green t-shirts. Yowza. Is this the reaction the production staff was hoping for? Were they, like, "Hey, Brad Kern, here's that Dolt-centric script you asked for, but we have to admit, it's pretty shitty." And was Brad Kern, like, "Hey, no problem. We'll just cast two hunky lunkheads as the guest ghosts and keep them stripped down to their t-shirts. That way, no one will notice how shitty the script is!" And then was the production staff all, "Oooh! Excellent idea, Brad Kern! But what about those people in the audience who aren't straight women and gay men?" And Brad Kern goes, "What's that crazy talk? Lesbians and hetero boys watching Charmed? What have you been smoking?" And the production staff went, "D'oh! Now we know why you're the guy running things around here, Brad Kern! You're the best!"
Costas shoots out a transparent hand to grip the picture frame and slams the Dolt's photograph to the floor, where the whole thing shatters. Louie thinks this is a nifty feat for someone so incorporeal, and says, "Someday you're going to have to [get Patrick Swayze to] show me how to do that." Oh, but Costas has more impressive feats to display. An unfortunate day player in a security guard's uniform rounds the corner to examine the Dolt debris on the floor. Costas strides over and corporealizes in front of the unfortunate day player, who gasps in surprise as previously instructed. Costas Incarnate hoists a handy bayonet and skewers the day player. I'm sure there are rules against such behavior. I'm even more certain we'll be hearing someone piss and moan about those rules before the night's over. Costas turns and instructs Louie to focus on the hatred he feels for the Dolt so that Louie may corporealize as well. I silently transmit some of my own Dolt hatred towards the television just in case Louie doesn't have enough of his own. Shortly, Louie becomes Louie Incarnate. Don't bother to thank me, Louie. Just send a check. Costas passes Louie the bayonet for practice, like, what -- he's supposed to poke the day player a few more times? The Brothers Mandylor grin.
Meanwhile, over in the plotline that interests me even less than this Guadalcanal thing, The Sole interviews a leggy chippie with attitude to spare for his open secretarial position. This actress mangled the French language on a particularly awful episode of Dawson's Creek, by the way, and I needed the Internet Movie Database to remind me of that. The reason? She looks like any of a thousand marginally talented blondes I'm convinced are bred on a secret ranch outside Palm Springs for the nefarious purpose of providing anorexic humanoid filler on various TV shows. This particular model of marginally talented humanoid filler reminds me of a thinner, younger Belinda Carlisle, so Belinda she will be for as long as she remains on this show. The Sole asks the standard questions about her paralegal experience as Belinda pulls a tame-enough-for-the-WB crossing and uncrossing of her legs a la Sharon Stone. After we learn that Belinda also takes dictation, she reveals that she can squiggle thirty miles in two seconds, throw Flaming Balls Of Death, and shape-shift as well. And if you put a line down at a party, it's trough time. I'd find this intriguing were I not so very bored. The Sole decides to hire her on a trial basis, fills her in on his plan to "separate [his] wife from the influence of her sisters" by convincing her to move out of the Manor, and drops the baby bomb, flirting a bit as he does so. I raise my hand. Sole? Yes, over here. You've married Phoebe and you've knocked her up already. Why are you bothering with the sneaky tripping of fire alarms and whatnot to get Phoebe to move from the Manor? You're the goddamned Source now. You know, the vessel that holds all the evil in the world? Just vanish with her. People disappear every day. They go poof and no one ever sees them again. We already know the Dolt can't track any of the witches once they've been yanked into the underworld, so you don't have to worry about Piper and Raige finding you. Just. GO. And take this stupid plotline with you.
And on we go to a plotline even more soporific than Guadalcanal and the leggy chippie engineered from Belinda Carlisle's nail clippings. The Dolt plays with a wrench and a leaky pipe under the Latin teacher's kitchen sink. She's complaining about some student she had suspended because he got mouthy, and now the kid's making threats and whatnot and she wants to quit teaching. If they want to reference the recent case of the science teacher in Kansas who quit teaching after she flunked twenty of her students because they plagiarized term papers, only to have her decision overturned by a school board hectored by a gaggle of self-important parents who refused to believe their little darlings should actually be punished for wrongdoing, they should do so directly and be done with it. Then again, directly referencing punishment for plagiarism is a dicey proposition for this show's writing staff, is it not? The Dolt blathers something very Zen And The Art Of Plumbing Fixtures -- except for the part where it's not very Zen at all -- which somehow convinces the teacher lady to remain in her chosen profession. The Dolt screws up the repairs to her pipes, by the way, and has to apply the special Whitelighter tingly touch to plug up the leak before he floods the woman's kitchen. Teacher Lady basks in the glow of the Dolt's superior attitude towards coping with the vicissitudes of life. Whatever.
Manor. Raige pages through the Book of Shadows in the parlor while Piper examines the contents of the Dolt's Army records. Raige mentions a vanquishing potion for ghosts that Piper remembers having used in the past. The catch is that the potion must be poured on the bones the ghost formerly inhabited, which I would assume presents an insurmountable problem as far as the Brothers Mandylor are concerned. Piper then finds the Dolt's Congressional Medal of Honor tucked away amongst the papers. Right. Audie Murphy and the Dolt: American heroes. Piper finds it odd the Dolt would hide away his medals like this, and wonders what really happened the day he died. Phoebe, meanwhile, calls out from her perch on the sun porch that the BoS also contains a vanquishing spell for ghosts. Raige replies that she found that one too, but the person who recites it needs to be a ghost as well. Just then, the power in the Manor blinks out. Phoebe's laptop immediately dies. Not. Even if her battery ran out earlier in the kitchen, the Feebs had the power cord plugged in, which should have recharged the battery enough to keep the laptop running. Also, every laptop I've received from an employer came with a battery in the unit and a spare one on the side in case of emergencies. Then again, Phoebe's stupid enough to have simply removed the battery after it died, thinking perhaps she would have to recharge it at the office. Come on -- would you put something like that past her? Speaking of her office, why isn't she there? Nope. Not buying any of this. Regardless, Phoebe claims to have lost all of her work, and storms out to the kitchen, muttering something under her breath about moving into her own apartment. Piper pretends not to have heard her, but we all know she'd be more than happy to get rid of the whiny bitch once and for all.
In the kitchen, Phoebe dials up The Sole's office and reaches Belinda. Phoebe is immediately suspicious in a "Who's this tramp working for my man?" sort of way. While the two "ladies" engage in a snippy pissing contest over who owns the rights to The Sole's goodies, Piper grabs a flashlight and heads to the breaker box in the basement. Phoebe demands to speak to The Sole. Belinda claims he's away from the office, and offers to take a message. Phoebe insists, just as we see that The Sole is hiding behind the basement door. The Sole is surprised when Phoebe apparently reaches him at his office. He blazes out as Piper trips the breakers to restore the Manor's electricity. The Sole blazes back into his office to find Belinda using his voice to speak to Phoebe. Phoebe asks if The Sole can provide her with a place to finish her column. The Sole takes over for Belinda, instructing Phoebe to meet him at "the towers" in twenty minutes. As Phoebe agrees and hangs up, The Sole whispers to Belinda, "You're hired." Belinda smirks in triumph.
Phoebe instructs Piper to contact her on her cell phone if they need anything at the Manor, and books out to the front door. Raige enters the kitchen with a photograph she found in the Dolt's papers. It's Louie, the Dolt, and Costas posing all buddy-like in their fatigues with their arms slung around each other, and don't bother sending me the URL of your Guadalcanal-themed slash epic, because I swear to GOD I'll hunt you down and kill you if you do. The sisters recognize Louie, and Raige reveals that Louie and Costas were killed in action the same day the Dolt died. "Could be a reunion [the Dolt] wants to avoid having," Raige leads. Piper slams the photo down on the table and calls for her husband. In he orbs. Piper pushes the photograph into his face. The Dolt takes a moment, then murmurs, "[Louie]." Even I can feel the love, and it's an indescribably unpleasant sensation. Piper fills the Dolt in on Louie's earlier visit to the Manor, and demands an explanation. The Dolt, still staring at the photograph of his boyhood (snort) love (ew), refuses to offer one. Fortunately, Louie and Costas Incarnate bleed into the room through the wall to interrupt the Dolt's disturbing reverie. Costas grabs a carving knife from the counter and flings it into the Dolt's chest as the Dolt screams, "[Costas]! Don't!" The Dolt latches onto the protruding handle and goes down moaning. Shut up. All of you. Louie wonders how the Dolt's supposed grandson knew who Costas was. He soon gets his answer as the Dolt yanks the carving knife out of his chest and little Whitelighter tingly orbs heal his wound while knitting up his t-shirt and removing that pesky bloodstain. Huh. I guess Whitelighters are unable to heal themselves, except for those times when they apparently can. "[Dolt]," Costas sneers darkly. "Wait! I can explain!" the Dolt pleads as he rises from the floor. Louie grabs Costas and hustles him out through the wall. The Dolt pouts his way into commercial.
Back from the break, Piper, Raige, and the Dolt explain what just happened for those in the audience too drunk to follow along the first time. Costas and Louie, having fed off their anger and resentment towards the Dolt for sixty years, have not only mastered the skill of corporealization; they've also missed the opportunity to "move on," thereby trapping themselves in their current thankless state of existence. The Dolt then launches into a sordid tale of three childhood friends who grew up together in Burlingame, innocent and free until those filthy Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. The boys immediately enlisted after securing a promise from their recruiter that they would serve in the same unit throughout the war. "So, what do they think you did?" Piper asks. The Dolt adopts the thousand-yard stare, then beats it and locks it in a closet until the neighbors call the Department of Children and Family Services and the police arrive to take the thousand-yard stare to a more nurturing environment. The Dolt steps to the mantel and assumes a contemplative demeanor, if by "contemplative" one means "vacant, yet somewhat constipated at the same time." "You don't want to know about Macho Grande," he mutters darkly. Oh, yes they do, Dolt. Time for a flashback!
The jerky hand-held camera. The grainy washed-out colors. The ADD-addled jump cuts. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are now watching Band of Brothers. Or Black Hawk Down. Or any movie, television show, or miniseries dealing with The Horrors Of War that was produced after Spielberg lost the Academy Award he was planning to receive for that overlong, overindulgent, over-praised epic from which this episode has stolen its name. Costas drags Louie over to the Dolt as various munitions scream and explode around him. I'm no doctor, but I believe the correct diagnosis for Louie's current ailment is "sucking chest wound." The Dolt, topped off by a helmet sporting a cunning red cross, scampers across the sand to Louie's side. Costas gives the Dolt the bullet: Louie took a "mortar frag" to the chest, as did several other members of their battalion. The Dolt and Costas haul Louie to a first aid tent, where the Dolt and a nurse sprinkle sulfa powder into Louie's sucking chest wound. The Dolt shoots Louie up with morphine. Mmmm. Morphine. The Dolt hands Louie off to the nurse, then grabs his pack to take care of the remaining men who lie injured in the field. Costas protests. The Dolt promised to take care of Louie! The Dolt insists that his primary responsibility is to the men in the field. Costas stamps his foot: "But you promised! You promised, you promised, you promised!" The Dolt gazes at Costas. "I'm sorry," he whispers at last. And then they kiss. Or not. The Dolt races away, leaving Costas to his manly bellowing beside the tent. One of those filthy Japs in his filthy Jap Zero swoops in and bombs the first aid tent. Evil Japs. Then again, maybe the Americans shouldn't have placed the first aid tent so close to the munitions depot. The force of the explosion knocks the Dolt to the dirt. He glances back over his shoulder and spies Costas, artfully lifeless on the sand. Louie and the nurse are presumably floating through the air in many tiny bits. Close up on the Dolt's shell-shocked face, and...
...we're back at the Manor. It's the return of the towheaded chimpanzee, as Brian Krause once again tries and fails to move the audience with his mad crying skillz. Piper sits silently on the sofa for a moment, presumably trying not to laugh, then rises to cross to the mantel. She attempts to console him, arguing rightly that there was nothing the Dolt could have done to save his friends from a filthy Jap bomb. Or the subsequent detonation of the American munitions depot. The Dolt will not be swayed from his conviction that he failed Costas and Louie in their hour of need. Raige joins Piper as the gals note that the Dolt sacrificed his own life to save countless members of his battalion. Does that mean nothing? Apparently so. Not only that, but the Dolt further believes that he was promoted to Whitelighter under false pretenses. A true Whitelighter would never abandon his charges, I believe is the argument. Raige has had enough. If Costas and Louie really were the Dolt's best buddies, they wouldn't try to carve him up in his own kitchen. Yeah, especially when they thought he was his grandson. Raige proposes that they find out where Costas and Louie are buried so they can "pour the potion on their dusty bones and vanquish their sorry asses." The Dolt objects. Perhaps, if he reasons with them, he can make them understand why he acted the way he did that day. Perhaps they will then be able to move on. Piper reluctantly agrees. She and Raige will find out where the Brothers Mandylor were laid to rest in order to summon them before their anger leads to further bloodshed. Uh, Piper? Do you really want to head all the way over to the Army, Navy, and Marine Cemetery in Guadalcanal? Think about it.
The V.A. Costas can't believe The Powers That Be rewarded the Dolt's perceived treachery with Whitelighterdom. The terrifying visage of Dwight D. Eisenhower stares from the wall behind him, flanked by the comparatively goofy visages of Dick "Heart Attack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack" Cheney and Dubya. Costas works himself into a right fit over the injustice of it all, flipping over chairs and display cases and such. The Brothers Mandylor decide that, since they can't kill a Whitelighter, they'll go after those the Dolt loves instead. "Payback," Costas vows, "is a witch." Louie struggles not to giggle at the silly line.
"The Towers," which is really the Brocklebank Apartments many will recognize from Vertigo and Tales of the City. I just had an awful thought. You don't think they're going to introduce a blonde Phoebe doppelganger and call her Madeleine, do you? The Sole escorts Phoebe into the penthouse apartment the law firm intends to use for that evening's reception. Phoebe's agog. It's so big! And so tastefully appointed! And so QUIET! And would you look at that view? It's hers to use as she pleases until the caterers arrive at four that afternoon. They chat about finding an apartment of their own, away from the bustle of the Manor. I don't care, for reasons outlined above. I should note, however, that Phoebe is a hypocritical bitch of unimaginable proportions to consider leaving the Manor after successfully insisting Piper remain there after her own wedding to the Dolt. Is this the result of the gestating demon spawn's growing influence over Phoebe's thoughts and actions? Or is it sloppy writing? Look at this show's track record and decide for yourself.
The Sole enters the elevator to find Belinda waiting for him. He tells her that Phoebe will need a dress for that evening's affair. Belinda spins around as various party frocks morph onto her body. The first is a simple, snug, one-shouldered column The Sole rejects as "too safe." The second is a garish, rhinestone-studded, short-skirted red thing that shows me more of Belinda's sweaty breast rolls than I ever needed to see. The Sole rejects this as a bit much. The last is not so much a frock as it is a pair of flimsy black scarves tied to conceal just enough boobage to avoid arrest, over a black, midriff-revealing wraparound skirt that's riding far too low on Belinda's hips for my comfort. "Perfect," announces The Sole, and I think the evil is affecting his eyesight. Belinda tries to get in his pants. He tells her to make like a tree. The Sole blazes out of the elevator car, followed shortly by Belinda, squiggling.
Manor. Raige slams the phone down in the parlor, having successfully located the remains of the Brothers Mandylor. Costas and Louie are "Rick and Nathan Lang," respectively, "buried November 22, 1942, at the local V.A." Wrong! Wrong! We've already established they died the same day as the Dolt, which the nameplate on the WALL OF HONOR identified as November 24. Also, if they did end up in the Presidio's military cemetery, it would have been after the war, when the United States began a program of repatriating the remains of some of the Pacific dead in 1948. It certainly wouldn't have been in 1942, especially because the fucking battle for Guadal-fucking-canal didn't end until February of 1943. Five minutes and a search engine, fellas. Try it some time. Piper and Raige make sure they have the summoning spell, and prepare to leave just as TPTB ring the Dolt's bell. The Latin teacher is in some sort of trouble. The Dolt must orb to her apartment at once. Piper tells him to do so -- they can meet up later once the Latin teacher's been sorted. Costas and Louie quietly poke their transparent heads through the front wall to eavesdrop as the Dolt orbs out.
After Piper and Raige exit the scene, Costas and Louie withdraw their heads for a brief confab on the front lawn. Question: If they're ghosts, why are they casting shadows onto each other? Bad lighting designer. Do it on the paper. "Because nothing pushes a Whitelighter over the edge faster than losing a charge," Costas determines that they'll follow the Dolt. Costas and Louie waft away.
Lair Of The Latin Teacher. A mouthy skinhead punk with rheumy eyes threatens her with a switchblade. He also deploys such current, with-it lingo as "Don't sweat me!" and "You dissed me, teach!" Enter the Dolt. The skinhead punk places the switchblade at the throat of the Dolt. Standoff. The Dolt urges the Latin teacher to talk the punk down. She does so. It's terribly tense. Not. The mouthy punk bolts, leaving the switchblade behind. Costas and Louie bleed in through the wall. Costas knifes the teacher in the back. Louie holds down the Dolt in an adjoining room. Costas joins the party on the floor, and sneers something about the Dolt watching the teacher die just like he watched Costas and Louie die so many moons ago. For some inexplicable reason, the Dolt does not orb from Louie's grasp over to the teacher to orb her away to a safer place. "Inexplicable"? Sorry. I forgot about the shitty script for a moment. You know, tight t-shirts on hunky lunkheads and all. The Latin teacher literally gives up the ghost, which rises from her body on the floor to drift upwards through the ceiling. Once she's gone, Louie releases the Dolt, who ineffectually applies the tingly touch to the wound on the corpse's back. Costas and Louie snicker and sneer and waft on out of the apartment. Brian Krause "emotes" us to commercial.
Back from the break, Piper and Raige enter the Manor hall. Piper orders Raige to prepare the vanquishing potion, as they learned during their trip to the V.A. that Costas and Louie offed that innocent day player. Phoebe descends to the stairwell landing, draped in the scraps of black fabric Belinda modeled earlier in the elevator. White. Trash. Up to and including the white dahlia she has pinned above her ear. Believe it or not, the fabric scraps looked better on Belinda. Almost wearable. On Phoebe, they hang as they might on a twelve-year-old girl. Did the Fun Bags take the week off to sun themselves in Cabo? Also, the wraparound skirt is riding so low on her hips, it's about to throw its muffler. Speaking of things that go "muff," Alyssa Milano has a heretofore-unseen tattoo that begins two inches below her navel and travels down towards regions best left unexplored. Bet you didn't need to know that, did you? Yeah, neither did I. Raige smiles and lies right through her teeth, "You look beautiful." "Cole is kinda splurging lately, huh?" is Piper's only possible contribution to the conversation, delivered with a light touch of sarcasm. After all, how much could a couple of yards of cheap black cloth cost, anyway?
Piper dispenses with the pleasantries and tells Phoebe she'll have to cancel her plans for the evening. The "killer ghosts" with a "grudge from the past" take precedence over cocktails at the Brocklebank. Phoebe sighs mightily and lopes over to the phone to call The Sole. She glums something unsubtle about canceling everything else as well. Piper calls her on this, and what follows -- after repeated viewings -- makes me think they're setting up the demon-spawn-controlling-its-host thing right now in this episode. Phoebe places the phone back in its receiver and blurts out The Sole's proposal that she and he find a place of their own now that they're married. Piper icily replies that this is not an option. Raige bites her lower lip and wishes she were anywhere but the Manor at this moment. Phoebe babbles something about resenting being forced to choose between her husband and her sisters. Piper frostily observes that that's not the issue. Phoebe insists that it is, and besides, how many more years must they all be locked together in the Manor? How much longer will they allow evil to dictate the choices they make in their lives? Piper clenches her jaw and decides to drop the issue for now. Phoebe may go to her party if she wants. Piper and Raige will aid the Dolt alone. Phoebe grins stupidly and goofs, "You hate me right now." "No," states Piper flatly. "I don't." "Yes, she does," Raige counters. Piper proposes they discuss the issue in the morning, and orders Phoebe to leave.
Once the evil bag in the tacky dress has left the Manor, Piper wonders where the Dolt could be, and calls for him a few more times. Receiving no answer, she suggests that Raige scan for him. Having never scanned for the Dolt before, Raige doubts it will work. Piper assures her to try anyway, and sure enough, up pops the Dolt on Raige's mental radar. Raige orbs off to locate him. Piper purses her lips and frets.
Lair Of The Late Latin Teacher. Raige orbs in to find the Dolt blubbering over the woman's corpse. Krause's acting in this scene is atrocious and does a great disservice to both McGowan and my patience, so I'll keep this brief. The Dolt gives Raige the skinny on the death of Teachie, and reveals that he's lost his powers. He mopes that he shouldn't have been given those powers in the first place. Raige delivers a "buck up, little Dolt" pep talk. The Dolt's not having it. He continues to blame himself for the deaths of the Mandylors, despite all evidence to the contrary. Raige moves to orb the Dolt back to the Manor, but is violently rebuffed. Rather than beating him until he bleeds, Raige orbs back to the Manor, promising to return with Piper and Phoebe. She leaves the great lump of flannel-clad snot and glycerin alone with the corpse.
Up on the roof, Costas and Louie watch Raige's little orb cloud disappear into the sky. They decide to kill Piper.
Over at the Brocklebank, Phoebe looks like a crack whore, and The Sole looks like a jackass for having dragged a scabrous five-dollar hooker to a corporate function. Raige interrupts the humiliation to escort Phoebe back to the Manor.
Manor attic. Piper prepares the ghost vanquish as Costas silently melts through the wall behind her. Costas lifts a dagger from a table. Piper hears the scraping sound of the blade against the wood and spins on her heel to face him. He whips the dagger at her chest, but she freezes it in mid-air, then unfreezes it, allowing it to clatter harmlessly onto the floorboards. She bravely snipes at Costas, only to have Louie startle her from behind. Louie jams another blade into her sternum. Piper gasps and falls to the carpet. Costas and Louie hover over her, covering her mouth so she can't call for help. Costas reaches a spectral hand into her chest to feel her heartbeat slow. Piper chokes and gasps and loses consciousness with her eyes still open. They drop shut as her head falls to one side. Costas and Louie rise to their feet when Raige and Phoebe race into the room. While Phoebe checks for Piper's pulse, Costas smirks, "We'll be back." Costas and Louie vanish into the commercial break.
Attic. Aftermath. Phoebe furiously compresses Piper's chest as Raige orbs back in from The Lair Of The Late Latin Teacher. The Dolt was nowhere to be found, and the ambulance has yet to arrive. Couldn't Raige have orbed Piper to the ER? Whatever. As the gals tend to their dying sister, the Dolt calls up from the stairwell below. He enters as frantically as he can, which, given Krause's pitiable acting, isn't too frantically at all. Costas and Louie materialize behind him. Louie lands an uppercut to the Dolt's jaw that sends the hapless dunderhead through a desk. Yes! Raige pounces to defend the Dolt's honor. Costas decorporealizes long enough for Raige to fling herself through his ethereal form into some boxes. He then leans down and backhands her. Costas moves to slice off a piece of Phoebe with the dagger from the floor. The Dolt offers himself instead. Costas and Louie proceed to kick the living crap out of the Dolt. Why couldn't this have happened earlier? It's all so very satisfying. While the boys take turns pummeling the Dolt, Piper literally gives up her ghost. Piper's spectral presence evaluates the situation. "Oh," she hoots. "Oh, my." Snicker. Costas and Louie whale away at the Dolt. Just as they ready themselves to plunge the dagger into the Dolt's girly little torso, Phoebe and Raige open the Book of Shadows to the vanquishing spell and offer it to Piper. She recites as follows:
Ashes to ashes,
Spirit to spirit --
Take their souls,
Banish this evil.
The attic shudders as Costas and Louie explode. Aw. Shame, really. They were awfully easy on the eyes, after all.
More with the "buck up, little Dolt" as Piper's spirit floats up to the ceiling. The Dolt manages to activate his tingly touch in time to suck Piper's ghost back into her body. Needless to say, he heals her white peasant blouse as well.
San. Fran. Cisco! Open your Golden Gate! Sorry. Filler shots of the city at night, don't you know. Over at the Brocklebank, The Sole stands on the penthouse balcony, gazing out at the bay. His trashy wife enters, and they agree to move into the corporate penthouse together. The Sole's law firm offered him the apartment, you see. Right. Sure. They mack. Whatever. Yawn.
The Veterans' Administration's Guadalcanal Reunion. Piper and a tense Dolt enter. Hordes of little old men in walkers and wheelchairs crowd around the Dolt with their many, many children and grandchildren. They all treat the Dolt like he's the Second Coming of John Wayne. Piper beams from the sidelines. Some nosy broad toting a champagne flute muscles her way to Piper's side to ask, "What's going on? Who is that?" Piper moistens and sniffles, "My hero." Yack. The Dolt basks in the adulation. Shut up, Dolt. Blackout.
The original episode is scheduled for the eighteenth. Enjoy this mini-hiatus before they return to batter us with five episodes in a row leading up to the season finale. I'll see you on the boards.