Welcome to the fifth-season premiere of the show The New York Times calls "a tawdry knockoff" of Buffy the Vampire Slayer! Let's dive right in, shall we?
Kill me. Please?
Fade up on Stately Luthor Manor. Kidding. You know which house it is. Inside, Piper and Phoebe pedebabble up the main staircase to the second floor. The Feebs is running late for an on-air interview with a couple of drive-time schlock jocks named "Skip" and "I Pay Southern White Trash To Have Sex In The Vestibule Of St. Patrick's On The Morning Of The Feast Of The Assumption," but first Piper wants Phoebe to take a gander at the work the Dolt's been doing on the nursery for the little stranger percolating in Piper's uterus. Piper and the Dolt evidently intend to shove the impending newborn into Piper's closet once he or she has arrived. You think I'm kidding? Look over there -- it's the Dolt himself, sawing an octagonal hole in the closet wall for a window. Phoebe, tiring of all this baby chatter, quickly returns the conversation back to her favorite topic -- herself -- asking the others if they've noticed the billboards The Bay Mirror has erected around town to promote her advice column. Piper playfully snarks something about the signs being visible from orbiting spacecraft, while I darkly sneer that Phoebe's terrifying visage pouting vapidly at San Franciscan motorists should result in a sixfold increase in auto fatalities within a matter of days. Phoebe notes that sending her husband to Hell has done wonders for her career, while a russet-haired Raige orbs in to Piper's boudoir, screaming, "Bogey in three! Two! One!"
The Glamorous Ladies scamper into various defensive positions as a muscle-bound nipple pony clad only in a batik skirt and a black-and-white voodoo mask materializes at Raige's side. The nipple pony blows a presumably-poisoned dart at Raige's neck. Raige ducks, leaving the dart to plunge into a teddy bear perched on Piper's dresser. The teddy bear's head shrinks to one-eighth its original size, and no, that makes no sense whatsoever, because it's just a freaking teddy bear and not an actual carbon-based life form, but we're only a minute and a half into a two-hour premiere, and in order to prevent my head from exploding, I'll simply remind you all of the Times's "tawdry knockoff" comment and move on. Piper shrieks and freaks and flings her hands in the nipple pony's direction. He rears backwards and dissolves into a cloud of black goo, leaving his forlorn voodoo mask to hover in the air for a moment before dropping tragically to the carpet. Shame, really, because that nipple pony had one hell of an upper body. Rrrwaor.
After a beat, Raige extracts a notebook from her purse and scribbles something down as she airily notes, "So much for the theory that Borneo Demons are impervious to magical powers. I can't wait to tell the local witch doctors." "Borneo Demons"? Like, from the actual island of Borneo? Because that nipple pony was of European extraction, honey. Trust me on this one. I looked. Several times. The Dolt interrupts to chide Raige for putting his "daughter" at risk by enticing a demon into the general vicinity of the nursery. Which is Piper's closet. Did I mention that they intend to shove the kid into the closet? And how do they know the genetic makeup of the embryo already? Whatever. The Dolt goes on to berate Raige for her off-screen, during-the-hiatus "magical kick." "I mean, look at your hair," tuts the Dolt. "It's still red from that potion you blew up last night." "Do you have any idea how much this would cost in a salon?" Raige pertly replies. Rose McGowan should be able to answer that question, for as those on the forums know, it was she who authored the above exchange after she appeared for work the first day of shooting with a radically different hairstyle unsanctioned by the apoplectic suits at the WB. True story. The Feebs jiggles over to Raige to compliment her purportedly inadvertent new 'do before darting out of the room. Piper gently reminds the Dolt that despite her pregnancy, she's still destined to protect the innocent, so the Dolt will have to get used to the idea of his little textbook-example-of-child-abuse-to-be getting jostled from time to time. The Dolt looks sad. Shut up, Dolt.
How did I ever manage to shoehorn all of that useless exposition into three paragraphs?
The scene cross-fades to a shot of the city skyline before the camera hurtles backwards across the bay. Fathoms down, a peroxided chippie in a black two-piece spandex-and-netting swimsuit stands in a cavern littered with nautical detritus, while a tawdry knockoff of Agnes Moorehead berates said chippie because Agnes Moorehead's tawdry knockoff is having a really bad hair day. I lie. The aged floozy with the bad hair is presently identified as "The Sea Hag" -- also known as The Villain Of The Week, Part One -- and she's not angry simply because of her hair, though God knows she has every right to be. No, it seems that the chippie wants to renege on some sort of agreement these two ladies made a month ago. The chippie, a tawdry knockoff of Natasha Henstridge from Species, who was already a tawdry knockoff to begin with, is named "Mylie," and she's a mermaid. If you've read Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid or seen Disney's The Little Mermaid or heard about the repeated decapitations of "The Little Mermaid" in Copenhagen's harbor or, you know, went to kindergarten, for fuck's sake, you'll already understand why these two women hate each other. You see, Hagnes gave Mylar two legs and thirty days so Mylar could wander the streets of San Francisco in search of true love in the form of a heterosexual man. Silly Mylar. Everyone knows San Francisco is not the place tawdry peroxided Natasha Henstridge knockoffs go to find true love in the form of heterosexual men. What were you thinking?
Mylar claims that she did indeed find the perfect heterosexual gentleman, but he has yet to profess his undying love for her. Hagnes isn't having it. Mylar's thirty-day deadline has arrived with no profession of undying love, so Hagnes is just going to have to kill her. There's only one catch: Mylar alone can agree to relinquish her mermaid immortality, so Mylar must willingly place Hagnes's handy "Auger Shell" against her chest herself. The demonic beastie within the shell will then suck the mermaid immortality from Mylar's breast. I suspect that the people who write these scripts are sniggling, tawdry perverts. Should Mylar refuse the sucking shell, she will "rot for eternity" there in the underwater cavern. Mylar accepts The Shell Of Suck from Hagnes, examines its five-pronged beastie for a moment, then shoves the thing forcefully into Hagnes's stomach. Mylar then spins around and dives into a pool of greenish water that glimmers nearby. She surfaces briefly to vow that she'll "prove" her heterosexual gentleman's affection for her, then upends herself, promo-style, gold-colored rubberized tail and all, to swim away. Hagnes glowers her way into the truncated opening credits, which consist of the series title backed by a glowing triquatra. Heaven help us all.
Speaking of hags: Catherine Zeta Jones.
Opening travelogue, sans ovaries and testicles. The opening travelogue has been spayed for this evening's presentation, if you will. We eventually land at the Manor, and dear God. They've added a wee CGI Dolt poking his wee CGI head out of that octagonal hole he's hacked through the facade. What's the word I'm looking for again? Oh, right: tawdry. While the Dolt sands the edges of the octagon, Piper perches on her bed across the room and coos over her baby book, which the Dolt found in a box up in the attic. As Piper stumbles across a photo of herself as a newborn, the following exchange of dialogue occurs:
Piper, delighted: Oooh! Look at how squishy I was!
The Dolt, fond: You were so adorable.
Piper, suspicious: You can't even see the picture.
The Dolt, clueless: I'm your Whitelighter. I've been watching you ever since you were a baby.
[Beat.]
Piper: That's too creepy to think about.
Demian: EW!
Piper waxes maternal, remembering what little she can of her own mother just as the name of Finola "Teeth!" Hughes pops up in the credits at the bottom of the screen. Yay! Teeth! Meanwhile, the Dolt attempts to wedge a prefabricated window frame into his octagon, only to drop the thing heavily onto his foot. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Slow-forward. Piper offers to help, but the Dolt chauvinistically insists that she can't, given her delicate condition. Shut up, Dolt. Piper agrees with me, and tells him to lighten up already. After all, didn't generations of Warren witches bear children while still fulfilling their duties?
The Dolt glances at the baby book in Piper's hands and rather callously instructs her to flip to the . Titled "The Sixth Year," it's blank, as is every page that follows. "There was no one there to finish it after your mother died," he cruelly asserts. Why did Piper marry this fuckwit, again? And if you're trying to tell me Grams wouldn't have carried on with the gals' baby books after Teeth! took The Swim That Needs No Towel, try again. Asshats. The Dolt doesn't stop there, going on to characterize Teeth! as "careless" and a person "who thought she was invincible." He glares at Piper and finishes, "She was wrong." I hope Finola shows up just to kick his worthless, witless ass. Piper mutters a listless, "Well," as the camera zooms into the final blank page in the book.
The screen flares white for a moment, then settles back down as Hagnes fades into the frame, clutching her wounded stomach. She groans a bit, and -- oh, Christ. This scene features a bloated, cretinous, talent-free "actor" who yowls, growls, and wails his lines with a faux-Cockney accent so hideous, I'm convinced the casting director found him while trolling Orange County dinner theater productions of Oliver! in search of underage trade. Seriously, who'd this guy screw to get this gig? I really want to know. Actually, the guy's so vile, I don't think an exchange of sexual favors factored into the decision to cast him, so I suppose he's Brad Kern's nephew or something. In any event, it's all so awful that I'm going to fast-forward through it and tell you what I remember. The Hateful Embodiment Of Everything That Is Wrong With This Show's Casting Process flickers into Hagnes's cavern to tell her his "master," a skeletal demon named "Necron," has sent him to collect the mermaid immortality she'd promised him earlier. Hagnes tells the foul freak to flicker the fuck back to wherever it is he came from. He does so, but not without a lot of yammering and howling and shitty acting before he vanishes. Hagnes rises and staggers to the glimmering pool of water. She stretches her arms out over its surface and intones the following:
Water, rise up from the sea --
Find the one who fled from me.
Follow where the winds are cold,
Then fall ten-fold like days of old.
The water roils, and a flash of light bats us over to a city plaza as storm clouds gather in the sky. Mylar calls out to her perfect heterosexual gentleman, who arrives as the plaza's fountain leaps to life rather photogenically. Mylar's intended, "Craig," is -- wait for it -- a tawdry knockoff of Tom Cruise. Yeah, I know. Tom Cruise has been scraping away at the bottom of the barrel of tawdriness with his Scientological fingernails for nigh on twenty-five years, but trust me: This guy is worse. He's even more shark-like in his appearance than Mr. Cruise himself, which while appropriate for this evening's storyline, is something of an achievement. If you could call being more shark-like than Tom Cruise an achievement, that is, but you know what I mean. Anyway, Mylar tries to get Craig to profess his undying love for her, but Craig finds the entire conversation strange and off-putting. By the by, Mylar really should have a doctor take care of the sinus infection through which she's been honking her lines. It's most unladylike. Despite his obvious misgivings, Craiggers eventually begins to tell Mylar how much he loves her, rotten sinuses included, just as Hagnes's storm clouds begin to unleash a torrent of rain upon the city. A drop splashes onto Mylar's thigh, whereupon a rash of golden scales blooms. Mylar panics and flees, pulling at her skirt to cover the scales, leaving a befuddled and somewhat irate Craiggers to be soaked, alone, in the downpour. Um. If you were a mermaid and you knew that the smallest amount of water striking your bare thigh would result in an outbreak of golden scales, wouldn't you wear slacks? Idiot.
As Mylar, distraught, huddles beneath an awning, silvery rays of cheese break through the storm clouds to land upon Phoebe's terrifying visage on a billboard opposite the plaza. The cheese ricochets off Phoebe's face to fall upon Mylar, who turns and gapes in horror and dismay. I know, honey. Phoebe's looking pretty ape-like in the photo they chose, isn't she? The billboard, incidentally, is tagged, "Ask Phoebe...She Has All The Answers." I don't know where to begin.
THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES. Take time to appreciate the BLACK HOLE, gang, for it is not long for our world. Oops. Spoiler! Raige enters, soaked to the skin, and while she's clearly strapped her puppies into a bra beneath her lavender blouse, THE NIPPLES once again threaten to poke out my eyes. Raige banters with her boss. Raige gets a promotion. The screen wipes down with annoying sound effects to reveal Phoebe in her own office, congratulating Raige via the telephone. Phoebe's non-Mary-Cherry assistant interrupts to inform her that Nancy O'Dell's people are on the other line, wondering if Phoebe will be needing "hair and makeup" for her interview that afternoon. Nah. Too easy. And I'm proud to reveal that I haven't the slightest idea who the hell Nancy O'Dell is. No -- don't tell me. I don't want to know. No, seriously. No. Seriously. Phoebe instructs her assistant to decline the offer. Moron. Raige wipes into the frame with annoying sound effects for an astoundingly irritating split-screen conversation. This effect drove me to distraction when I covered that episode of Dark Angel for Kim last season, so in the interests of my sanity, I'll be skipping ahead here. Raige playfully teases Phoebe about her newfound fame. Phoebe announces that she's heading to Divorce Court to take care of the Cole situation once and for all. Scene.
Downstairs, the runoff from the downpour puddles in the parking garage as Phoebe crosses to her car from the elevator. Mylar sneaks up behind her, startling the addle-brained P, and introduces herself. "I recognized you from your billboard," Mylar notes. "I recognized you as a Charmed One. You're very famous where I come from." Way to dump kerosene on the raging bonfire of an infernal ego, sweetheart. As Mylar attempts to explain who she is and why she needs Phoebe's help, a passing car splashes a cascade of puddled rainwater over her legs. Mylar shrieks as her legs morph instantly into a tail. For some utterly inexplicable reason, Mylar's cork-soled sandals morph into scales along with her actual body, as does her light-blue sundress. Her breasts are capped with strategically-placed golden scaly pasties. Gimme a T! Gimme an A! Gimme a W! Gimme a D! Gimme a...oh, fuck it. Mylar hoots and yodels and biffs face-forward onto the concrete. While the Feebs busies herself with a little hooting and yodeling of her own, Mylar freaks, for Hagnes can track Mylar's location by her tail. As a Hagnes-heralding wind whips through the underground garage, Phoebe drags Mylar over to the passenger side of her car and dumps her into the front seat, carefully ensuring that Mylar's tail hangs out the window. Phoebe leaps behind the wheel and screeches out of her parking space as Hagnes materializes through one of the many puddles. Phoebe guns the engine and rams right into her. Hagnes dissolves into a spray of water as Phoebe peels out into commercial.
There's something very, very wrong about Will Kemp wiggling his denim-clad ass in my face while crooning, "Keep it loose." That's just way too much information there, buddy.
Manor parlor. The remaining patch of scales on Mylar's thigh vanishes beneath the hair dryer Phoebe wields as Raige enters through the front door, bitching about being called away from the office. The bitching stops, however, when Raige catches sight of the last few scales. Introductions are made, followed by Mylar relating her tale of woe. Mylar, by the way, is wrapped in a robe that she apparently borrowed from one of the Glamorous Ladies, like, what happened to the clothes she was wearing in the last scene? Shouldn't they have morphed back onto her body after she dried off? Rrrrgh. Describing her predicament, Mylar notes that while mermaids are known for their "cold hearts," and while "the call of the sea" can be irresistible, she herself was eventually overwhelmed by a loneliness that led her to enter into that shady arrangement with Hagnes. There aren't any mermen down there? Where do little mermaids come from? And why did I ask that question? Now I've got a goddamned Ethel Merman song blaring in my skull. "Gee, but it's good to be HEEEEERE! Frankly, I feel right at HOOOOOME! HERE is where all the ex-CITE-ment is! THIS is champagne with ALL the fizz!"
Oh, God.
Throughout, Piper displays an uncharacteristic unwillingness to battle Hagnes, Phoebe displays a characteristic self-centeredness, and Raige displays, well, whatever it is the writers slapped together for her this week. I think it's compassion. After one too many snide remarks from Piper and Phoebe, Raige insists on a private Charmed Chat in the kitchen. Once there, Phoebe whines about the court date she's missing. Raige flings her hands in the air in frustration and tells Phoebe to leave. The Dolt enters the kitchen as Phoebe bolts from the Manor, and both he and Piper advise Raige to think of a way to assist Mylar without risking a confrontation with Hagnes. Because none of these people ever tell each other what's really bothering them, Raige feels like she's been unceremoniously dumped into some sort of alternate universe where Piper's as wimpy as her witless husband. Raige welcomes a confrontation with Hagnes, because Raige finds Hagnes "an interesting evil specimen" who reminds her of "a water demon [she] read about in the Book [who] kills in the most fascinating way." Piper cuts Raige dead, so to speak, with the information that the "fascinating" object of her study is the selfsame demon who offed their mother. Raige apologizes while Piper clenches. Raige offers to prevent Mylar's Craiggers from boarding his flight to New York City, on the condition that Piper research a "Plan B" in the Book of Shadows should Raige's effort fail. Piper reluctantly agrees.
Hags 'R' Us. Oh, Lord. The Hateful Embodiment Of Everything That Is Wrong With This Show's Casting Process flickers back in behind Hagnes. This time, he's accompanied by Necron, who apparently is as necrotic as his name implies. Clever writers. Not. If you're keeping score at home, Necron here is also known as The Villain Of The Week, Part Two. Just so you know. And now, on with the backstory: Necron invaded Hags 'R' Us "six months ago" to suck the essence, or whatever, from Hagnes. She promised him the immortal essence of a mermaid in exchange for her life, and has yet to deliver. Apparently, once Necron feeds on the essence of an immortal being, he'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of his folk. As God is his witness -- if he has to lie, cheat, steal, even kill, he'll...wait a minute. Sorry. Wrong piece of cultural garbage. Hagnes pleads for her life as Necron conjures a ball of zigzagging blue electricity in the palm of his hand. Hagnes vows to unleash a storm on San Francisco the likes of which the city has never seen in her effort to trap Mylar for Necron's delectation. Necron considers Hagnes's offer, then fries that rotten actor with his electrical ball of death. After he absorbs the essence of The Hateful Embodiment, Necron returns his attention to Hagnes all, "Make it so, my watery wench."
Airport. Raige orbs discreetly into the ladies' room, then emerges onto the concourse to track down Craiggers. She nabs him just as he's about to board his flight, and after a bit of back and forth wherein Raige begs Craig to delay his trip and Craig tells Raige to go to hell, Raige finally manages to convince him to return with her to the Manor by claiming that Mylar's life hangs in the balance.
Divorce Court. Actually, Divorce Office, as it's a private hearing in chambers. After learning that Phoebe's met all of the statutory requirements for something called a "default divorce," and after hearing from Detective Darryl that the police "used every method at [their] disposal" to find the still-missing Cole, the judge forks over the final document for Phoebe's signature. Darryl's sporting some unfortunate facial hair in the form of a goatee, by the way. How International Male of him. He's got to stop hanging out with Danny Bonaduce. As Phoebe giggles with unseemly glee, Cole bellows from the hallway, "Is this the right office?" He brightly barges in as Phoebe's face falls and Darryl grinds his teeth.
Cut to a reception area outside the judge's chambers. Phoebe clomps through the room, bellowing, "You evil bastard!" as Cole follows hot on her heels. She calls him "a pit bull with a death grip," which is an unfortunate analogy given the recent dog mauling case that took place in San Francisco, but then, everything about this show is unfortunate, is it not? Darryl, meanwhile, joins them in the reception area to scream a little bit at Cole himself. Cole, irritated, waves a hand in Darryl's direction, and Darryl morphs into a water cooler. No, seriously. His body rays white and morphs down into water cooler form. "Glug!" offers the water cooler. Shut up, water cooler. Cole -- who's looking as tasty as ever, and damn him for that because I've been sick of this storyline for what seems like my entire adult life and I want so badly for it to go away -- reveals that he extended his stay in The Waste Land in order to accumulate enough powers to "execute [his] plan." Said plan involves Cole reclaiming his position at that white-shoe law firm of his and utilizing his purloined demonic powers to help people. "Glug, glug!" goes the water cooler. I'd toss a sullen glare in the direction of the water cooler, but I'm distracted by how awful Alyssa Milano looks this evening. Especially after having spent the summer recapping episodes from the first season, way back when she was, oh, I don't know -- healthy? In an unexpected change from last season, it's not the clothes that are so horribly offensive this time around, it's the bony figure inside the clothes that is going to give me nightmares. I once told the Polish Princess that Alyssa Milano was actually Andrew Keegan in drag. That no longer holds true, mainly because Andrew Keegan, to the best of my knowledge, has not embarked on the sort of hunger strike that would have made Bobby Sands say, "For fuck's sake, feed the poor bastard something, you heartless shites!" Mind you, she's not in Calista territory yet, but she doesn't have far to go. I mean, really. Are you telling me the friendly folk at craft services can't shove a couple of brownies down her throat every now and then?
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Cole gallantly promises to maintain a certain amount of distance from the Feebs, but he won't just walk away from her. He still loves her, after all. Phoebe orders Cole to give it up already, because she's Justin Timberlake's bitch now. Or Kerr Smith's. Or maybe she's gone back to Cinjun Tate after all these years. I can't keep track of these things anymore. To reinforce her point, Phoebe snatches up a letter opener from the receptionist's desk and shoves its business end towards Cole's face. He calls her bluff, wrapping his fist around the blade. She responds by violently flicking her wrist, gouging a three-inch gash into the palm of his hand. A few drops of his blood spatter a nearby tray of legal briefs. Cole blithely natters something about her unexpected and "extreme" reaction to his protestations of love and devotion, and mojos the wound on his palm away. As the gouge heals itself, the droplets of Cole's blood begin to eat away at the paper beneath them. Phoebe wigs and races from the room. Cole heaves a glum sigh and absently waves his healed hand in the water cooler's direction. The water cooler morphs back out into Darryl, who sneers a tart remark or two before exiting himself. Cole mopes.
Manor. Piper grows increasingly anxious as the local television station whips out its "Storm Watch" graphics and plasters them over stock footage of the last El Niño eruption to pummel Northern California. After receiving confirmation from Mylar that Hagnes can send a tidal wave crashing through the city should she so choose, the Dolt draws Piper off to the side to ensure that she can control herself while he orbs out to consult with the ever-useless Elders. She shakily insists she can, so off he goes, just as Raige returns to the Manor with Craig in tow. Mylar jumps up from the sofa, overjoyed at the sight of her intended, but the joy vanishes as soon as he starts bickering with her about his missed meeting and his canceled flight and whatnot. Piper cuts through the crap, ordering Craig to profess his goddamned love already so she can go back to knitting baby booties and vomiting every ten minutes because of the morning sickness. Craig clearly thinks every female in the house is insane. Mylar finally -- finally -- agrees to reveal to Craig what she's been hiding all along. She hoists a vase from the coffee table, removes the flowers, flops down on the couch, and dumps the water all over her legs. Craig takes one look at the tail and flees.
Mylar frowns down at her scales as the Hagnes-heralding wind whips through the parlor. Hagnes materializes near the hallway, and Piper quickly descends into a near-paralytic state of terror. Hagnes conjures a demonic ball of water in her hand and flings it at Raige's feet as Piper tries unsuccessfully to freeze the intruder. A column of water encases Raige. Well, actually, a crappy CGI effect meant to indicate a column of water encases Raige. We're supposed to believe Raige is drowning, but Rose McGowan is completely dry. Her hair's flying around in the gusts from the wind machine, for Christ's sake. What's the word again, my friends? Yeah, you know it. Shout it loud, people. Just for shits and grins, I'll toss out another quote from The New York Times: "I believe Aaron Spelling has single-handedly lowered SAT scores." Yeah, baby. Revel in the brain rot. Hagnes conjures another water ball and hurls it at Piper, who breaks out of her paralysis in time to toss herself defensively behind the couch. Mylar calls out for Piper as Hagnes advances on her, but Piper remains in her hiding place, hyperventilating until Mylar's screams fade away. Raige emerges from her column of crappy CGI, soaked and choking, to shoot an accusing "What happened to you?" at her sister. Piper pants her way into the commercial break.
We take a moment to watch the storm clouds dissipate in the afternoon sky above the Manor before heading inside for the aftermath. Piper stares bleakly through a sun-porch window while Phoebe wails in disbelief behind her. "She took our innocent? How could you let that happen?" The. Gall. Of this woman. Just where the hell were you during the late altercation, Feebs? Oh, that's right -- nowhere near the Manor, you self-serving, self-involved, self-aggrandizing, hideously-coiffed, malnourished, bony-ass hag. Aauuugh! Piper can't explain herself, and stammers out repeated apologies for her inaction. Raige, who's exchanged her soaked office duds for a white, bias-cut evening gown -- no, really. No. Really -- asks if Piper's research in the Book of Shadows proved fruitful. Piper distractedly mentions something vague about a vanquish. The Dolt steps in, announcing that TPTB told him Hagnes keeps her cavern protected by charms and whatnot, and that the only way to find her is through a mermaid. Phoebe spits something nasty and absolutely uncalled for about the Manor's lack of mermaids at the moment, and Piper finally loses it, sneering the very question I asked of Phoebe five sentences and one guttural exclamation ago. Phoebe, momentarily chastened, mumbles something about having "a demon of [her] own" to deal with. Raige takes control of the rapidly deteriorating situation, sending the Dolt to the airport once more for Craig. Once he's gone, Phoebe apologizes for her tone, and suggests that Piper rest for the good of her percolating infant while Phoebe and Raige head to the attic to abuse the Book of Shadows. Piper sinks wearily into a wicker love seat.
Hags 'R' Us, Deep-Sea Division. Hagnes has lashed Mylar to a bit of seafaring debris with some kelp. Hagnes again offers Mylar The Shell Of Suck, and Mylar again refuses it. Hagnes blathers something about Mylar eventually begging for The Shell to rid herself of her eternal torment and pain of a love lost and wah, and then vanishes in a pillar of water. Mylar's eyes leak glycerin while her lower lip quivers.
Meanwhile, back in San Francisco, Darryl and his unfortunate facial hair have found themselves pinned down behind a restaurant booth by gunfire emanating from a semiautomatic-toting skinhead. Actual gunfire? On Charmed? How...novel. Oh, it's still tawdry, but it's novel nonetheless. Darryl radios for back-up, then squeezes off a couple of rounds that force the skinhead to beat a retreat into the bistro's kitchen. Darryl and his unfortunate facial hair warily emerge from behind the booth, only to be met by a hail of skinhead-sent bullets. Suddenly, the skinhead appears to freeze, and the trail of bullets slows to a crawl in mid-air. Cole smears onto the scene to note politely, "I thought you could use a little help." Darryl's unfortunate facial hair, startled and standing on end, splutters, "You thought right." "Let's go get the bad guy," Cole smirks. The two amble over to the virtually-frozen skinhead, past the line of bullets that are ever-so-slowly crossing the room while the cloud of smoke from the semi's barrel gradually expands. Applaud the special effects guys for this one. Not only is the overall effect pretty cool, they've also managed to maintain bullet continuity across several different camera angles during the dialogue that follows. As Cole disarms and handcuffs the skinhead, Darryl suspiciously wonders what Cole's ulterior motive could be. Cole is shocked -- shocked -- that Darryl could be so unappreciative and cruel, and claims that, aside from hoping that Phoebe learns of this good deed, he has no ulterior motive. His supernatural services are available any time Darryl might need them. "I'm gonna prove to everyone that I'm not evil," he asserts as he finishes cuffing the perp. Cole waves a hand around, and the bullets speed up to shatter a few wine bottles on the opposite end of the restaurant. The perp makes "Whuh?" noises before Cole clocks him one in the jaw, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Darryl attempts to reason with Cole, but Cole simply smiles, reminds Darryl to tell Phoebe all about this little adventure, and then wordlessly smears away. Darryl's unfortunate facial hair pouts.
Hags 'R' Us, Manor Division, Attic Subsection. Phoebe admiringly examines the Hagnes tracking spell Raige scribbled onto a slip of paper while Raige herself attempts to ignore her chirping cell phone. Raige, you see, is certain that her boss is calling to yell at her. Phoebe, irked, snatches the phone from Raige's hand and slams it down onto the table. Raige "ooo-kays" her way to a chair at Phoebe's side and wonders what gives. Phoebe gives her the long version of what happened at Divorce Court that afternoon -- you know, the version that contains not only the relevant facts, but also all of the meaningless psychoblither about Phoebe's feelings and Phoebe's needs and Phoebe's fear and Phoebe's fatigue and Phoebe's desire to exile herself to a rock in the middle of the ocean in order to get away from her errant husband. Oh, wait. I totally agree with that last bit. Yes, Phoebe. Exile yourself to a rock in the middle of the ocean and stay there forever. Raige peers at the letter opener Phoebe used to gash Cole's hand. The acid in Cole's blood has pitted the blade here and there. Raige vows to concoct a protection spell with Cole's blood once they've dealt with the whole Hagnes issue, and urges Phoebe to focus on the task at hand. Phoebe pouts, but agrees. After the two voice a bit of sisterly concern about Piper's current state of mind, Piper joins them in the attic to recite the tracking spell. The gals form a semicircle in the center of the room as Raige distributes copies of the spell. Raige notes that, should the spell work as she intends, the three will be transported directly to Hags 'R' Us, Deep-Sea Division. The camera whirls around them as the three recite the following:
Powers of the witches rise:
Find the hag who speaks in lies,
Balance chakra, focus chi,
Lead us through the cruel, cruel sea.
Nothing happens for a very long moment. Well, except for the North American continent sliding fifteen entire feet to the west because of that whole continental drift thing as another Rhode-Island-sized slice of the Antarctic Ice Shelf melts away into the South Atlantic. But nothing else. Finally, Phoebe hoots and yodels and snipers to the floor. The camera cuts to take in Phoebe's brand-new mermaid tail as it languidly flops up and down on the carpet, then tracks quickly up her body to stop just below her two best friends, which are now capped with strategically-placed golden scaly pasties. Piper goggles. Raige gasps. Alyssa Milano mugs like an lunatic camera whore hopped up on methamphetamines and crack. Demian gouges out his eyes and vomits. Commercial.
The beach. Raige orbs directly into the surf with Piper and Phoebe. The Feebs collapses into the water and proceeds to baby-talk her way through a series of whinging gripes about their current situation and how it negatively impacts her. Like you expected her to do anything different. Piper and Raige eventually order her to suck it up and determine Hagnes's whereabouts. The Feebs adopts a sullen, put-upon demeanor, pinches her nose, and dives into the waves. To complete the party, the Dolt orbs into the water to announce that he learned Craig's flight has already left for New York. He then wonders why he's standing in water up to his knees. Upon hearing the reason, he drily replies, "Oh. Well. That would explain it." Oh, Dolt. So close to amusing with the funny lines, and yet so very, very far away. A "couple" "hundred" "yards" from the beach, a wee, crappy, CGI Phoebe enthusiastically pops out of the water to urge the others to follow her into the waves. Piper orders her to return to shore immediately. Instantly, but not without appropriate sound effects, wee, crappy, CGI Phoebe turns into huge, scary, blue-screen Phoebe. Get it? She swims much faster now that she's half fish. No, really, do you get it? Because we can all stop right here and wait for you until you're certain you get it. You've got it? Are you sure? Good. Moving on. Huge Scary Blue-Screen Phoebe is totally stoked about the call of the sea that Mylar described all those many scenes ago. Piper rolls her eyes and asks about Hagnes. Phoebe admits that there's a "stench" underwater. The Dolt opines it could be from the sewage treatment plant up the coast, and I resist the urge to blame something much closer and, well, more Phoebe-like for the stank. Piper instructs Phoebe to follow the stench and to summon the Dolt once she's found Hags 'R' Us, Deep-Sea Division. Once Huge Scary Blue-Screen Phoebe has slipped beneath the waves, Raige runs down her checklist and asks Piper for the Hagnes vanquish. Piper, however, has momentarily slipped into a coma -- an impulse I understand completely -- but rouses herself to announce that "everything is under control."
Here Be Hags, Deep-Sea Division. Sorry. I've grown weary of typing those twee single quotes. Mylar, suicidally despondent, agrees to accept the Shell Of Suck from Hagnes, and draws the thing to her breast. The tentacles of The Shell's beastie fondle said breast for a moment, then disappear under her skin. The Shell Of Suck glows as Mylar swoons against the seafaring debris to which she's been lashed. Down in the glimmering pool of water, Phoebe surfaces to gape at the figures in the cavern.
Back on land, the Dolt announces that Phoebe's calling for them. The three link hands and begin to orb out, but at the last second, Piper snatches her hands away and collapses against an outcropping of rock, panting.
Here Be Hags. Raige and the Dolt orb in and startle Hagnes, who had been leering maliciously at the glowing Shell Of Suck. Hagnes hurls a water ball at Raige while the Dolt scampers off to the side to retrieve a broadsword from the assorted nautical trash on the cavern floor. Raige dodges the water ball and summons The Shell Of Suck from Mylar's breast with her orbing telekinesis. Mylar remains in her swoon as a gaping, bloody wound oozes on her chest. Hagnes flicks her hand, encasing Raige in some sort of demonic cloud that leaves her enmeshed in seaweed. The Shell Of Suck falls to the floor and rolls into the glimmering pool. Phoebe dives to retrieve it. Meanwhile, the Dolt hacks at Hagnes with the broadsword, but Hagnes dematerializes long enough for the sword to pass harmlessly through her body. When she rematerializes, she envelops the Dolt in one of those crappy CGI pillars of water. Finally, in slow-motion, Phoebe uses her tail to propel herself out of the pool five feet into the air. From her mid-air vantage point, Phoebe spikes The Shell Of Suck into Hagnes's chest like she's some sort of demented, anorexic water polo player getting in one last goal before the clock runs out. Hagnes shrieks and howls and moans and wails and disintegrates into a pile of dust on the floor of the cavern.
With the vanquish of Hagnes, Raige and the Dolt are free of their restraints, and they dart over to Mylar. The Dolt, sopping wet, applies the tingly touch, but it doesn't take because, as he puts it, Mylar's "not human." Raige urges him to fetch the boyfriend from his airplane. The Dolt bounces out and bounces right back in again with Craig. The conversation that follows goes something like this:
Craig: She is a freak!
The Dolt: No! She is a freak with a beautiful heart!
Craig: You, a complete stranger to me, are absolutely right, and I shall now declare my undying and eternal love for this freak with the beautiful heart!
Phoebe: Baaaa!
Actually, I think Phoebe might have mooed, but who cares at this point? Mylar's scales vanish, and the Dolt blushes furiously when he takes in Mylar's post-mermaid nakedness. The Dolt strips off his soaked shirt so that Craig can cover up his girlfriend's naked, nearly-dead, post-mermaid ta-tas. The Dolt then reapplies the tingly touch, and this time it works. Mylar's eyelids flutter open. She beams. Craig beams. They mack. Whatever.
The Dolt, "sensing Piper's panic," suggests that they all return to the beach immediately. He crouches by the glimmering pool to take Phoebe's hand for the orb, but Phoebe flatly refuses to return to land. Raige snarls, but it's of no use. Phoebe longs for the freedom the open ocean provides, and there's nothing Raige can do about it! Nothing at all! Do you hear her! Nyaaaah! Mylar warns them that Phoebe's heart will grow cold if she hearkens to the call of the ocean, but whatever. Phoebe's off like a prom dress, and the last we see of her (for another five minutes, at any rate) is her glittery, golden, rubberized tail.
Stay tuned for Part Two, gang. It promises to be just as ass-tastic as Part One. I know. I've seen it already. Twice.