A Witch In Time

"Charmed Firestarters"? Okay. So, clearly, the WB Promo Man is allowing his recreational drug use to interfere with his professional responsibilities and requires an intervention, followed by several months in a tastefully-appointed rehab facility, but to be honest with you, I don't much care. Why? Because tonight I get to see Ken Marino die. Several times. In slow motion. Score!

We fade up on a suspiciously lush Manor porch. Seriously: The roof groans under a load of blossoming wisteria, the support columns are entwined with lilac and flowering ivy, and there are pots and pots of blooms lining the walk. In San Francisco. In November. Pleasing to the eye, certainly, but six months out of step with Mother Nature. Amid this riot of anachronous horticulture, Phoebe and Gonzo Marino make with the tiresome post-date banter. Phoebe smirks that all "good dates" end on the front porch. Gonzo flirtatiously wonders where the "great dates" wind up. Phoebe bats a pair of bedroom eyes at The Chinless Wonder and promises to answer his question "in a second" as she leans in for a kiss. Just as I raise the cherry end of my cigarette to my eye, Piper interrupts the macking with a bellowing off-screen "Heads UP! Pregnant lady with groceries!" Piper brusquely wedges the two sick-making lovebirds apart with her body and enters the Manor. Piper's pantywaist of a husband trails behind her with a few shopping bags of his own. Some wise-ass in the props department made sure to include a box of Lucky Charms in one of Brian Krause's bags, by the way. "What's wrong with Piper?" Phoebe asks of the Dolt, who mumbles something nonsensical about paper versus plastic by way of response. He eases himself into the front hall and slams the door behind him. Phoebe fiddles with her purse strap and grimaces at The Chinless Wonder.

Indoors, the Dolt rather curtly wonders what crawled up Piper's ass and exploded this evening. To my immense relief, the wife blames not her icky pregnant-lady hormones, but rather Phoebe rebounding from her shattered marriage with a wholly inappropriate dork of a swain like Gonzo. As the two bear their respective loads down the hallway, Piper ticks off what she deems to be Gonzo's worst qualities: The Chinless Wonder is recently divorced, bathes in cologne, and toils as a computer programmer. That's it? What about the googly eyes, the beaky nose, the non-existent jawline, the Satanic knack for choosing horrible television projects like Men Behaving Badly, First Years, Leap Of Faith, and Dawson's Creek, and the fact that anyone who willingly chases after a shrewish, self-centered, irresponsible, brainless, wasted, bony-ass hag like the Feebs should be taken out and shot? What about all that, Piper? Huh? Piper, content with her paltry list of three perceived shortcomings, ignores me to blather on about how Phoebe and Gonzo are quite simply incompatible, and that if Phoebe doesn't watch herself, she's going to get hurt. "We should just vanquish him," snarks the Dolt. Oh, look at the Dolt, making with the cutting remarks! Thanks for the offer, honey, but The Angel Of Death has that covered for the evening, you useless, dimwitted sweetheart, you.

Raige chooses this moment to pop up from the depths of the sofa in the parlor with a pert, "Hey! A little quiet, here?" A tousled, masculine mop of dark hair is visible just below Raige's face. Piper shrills, promo-style, "What is this -- a brothel?" as the gentleman attached to the tousled mop of hair hikes himself up on his elbows. Raige's new slampiece appears to be pretty damn cute, but he's not on screen long enough to confirm this initial impression. In response to Piper's rather rude remark, Slampiece Mop Top grins devilishly up at Raige and notes, "You didn't mention that. I'm a little short on cash." Raige smirks and pushes him back down into the depths of the sofa. Go, Raige! Woo! Just remember to take a damn shower in the morning this time, okay? Piper goggles at the Dolt, then grits her teeth in irritation as Phoebe and Gonzo slip through the front doors to scamper upstairs to the Bimbo Boudoir. Piper wonders if she should put a stop to the imminent fornication, like, butt out, woman. I hate Ken Marino as much as you do, but as long as I don't have to watch Phoebe getting hot and heavy with her chosen moron, she can do whatever the hell she wants, right? After all, I seem to remember you yourself engaging in certain unspeakable activities in the shower and across your desk and on the floor of your Godforsaken nightclub, so shut it. Raige agrees with me, warning Piper against interrupting the imminent fornication unless Piper wishes "to make a total ass out of [herself]." Raige's new slampiece makes me giggle by poking the top of his head over the back of the sofa to peer down his nose at the unreasonable shrike with the groceries standing by her wimp of a husband at the foot of the stairs. Raige dives back down onto her new slampiece as Piper natters on and on about Phoebe's "mismatched relationship." The Dolt finally tells Piper to stow it. According to the closed captioning, Piper "[scoffs]." Heh.

Bimbo Boudoir. Phoebe and Gonzo barrel through the doorway and start ripping off their clothes. What the hell? I thought Phoebe was wearing a knee-length white coat, but apparently, it's some sort of blouse, because off it goes and out pop the Fun Bags. Bra-encased Fun Bags, to be sure, but Fun Bags nevertheless. You're probably wondering why I'm not scraping out my own eyes with a spoon as Phoebe body-checks The Chinless Wonder onto the bed and shoves her tongue down his throat. It's because I don't want to miss the delightful premonition that now smacks Phoebe in the teeth. A shiny-headed officer of the law leaps from his prowler with pistol drawn and shouts, "Get down on the ground!" Gonzo gawps at the cop on his right, then gawps at the gun-toting hip-hopping gangbanger on his left. The gun-toting hip-hop gangbanger instantly becomes my new TV boyfriend when he plugs The Chinless Wonder twice in the chest. Marry me, Gun-Toting Hip-Hopping Gangbanger! The Chinless Wonder drops to the asphalt, a thin trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth as his googly eyes glaze over. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Slow-forward. This episode's already a keeper. Phoebe snaps out of it as The Strings Of Impending Guest-Star Doom thrum on the soundtrack. "Where'd you go?" Gonzo asks, rather sensitively for one so loathed. "Are you okay?" Phoebe gasps and pants and plows face-first into the opening credits.

The Goo Goo Dolls are tonight's guest testicles for the opening travelogue, which features some very nice new footage of San Francisco. The camera rears up over a hill on the Marin Peninsula to land on the Golden Gate Bridge with the city in the distance, then cuts to a gorgeous tracking shot along the Bay Bridge with the Ferry Building low in the background before cutting again to an aerial pan towards Telegraph Hill as the morning fog withdraws from the city's skyscrapers. I'm sure this new footage will irritate me to no end when they immediately recycle it for week's episode, but for now I'm enjoying it. Over on Prescott Street, the Manor's actual front porch, unfortunately, in no way resembles its soundstage counterpart from the top of the hour. Considerably fewer flowers, people. Unless the heaving boughs of lilac and wisteria shriveled up and died overnight and were carted away by a magical brigade of mulching pixies, the continuity editor screwed up. Again. Up on the sun porch, the gluttonous Dolt helps himself to an overflowing plate of breakfast treats at the wrought-iron table as Piper asks Raige, "So how come we never met your couch buddy before?" Raige, in wry good humor because she got some the evening, smirks that her slampiece is more than a couch buddy. "His name is Max," Raige smiles, grabbing a cup of coffee, "and I think he might actually have some potential." I'll be the judge of that, missy. And, yes, my ears perked up when she mentioned his name. The Dolt asks his sister-in-law to "define potential." Raige, reveling in the attention, offers, "He is wickedly smart, perversely funny, and has just the right touch of weird style for me." Hmm. Either Rose McGowan is making some sort of meta-comment regarding Marilyn Manson's baffling personal appeal, or Daniel Cerone is tossing yours truly a tremendous, albeit sly, shout-out.

Yeah, right.

Phoebe dimly bubbles in from the dining room, dragging Gonzo along behind her, and starts in with the babytalk as she bids the occupants of the sun porch a good morning. Piper fires off a few snippy remarks as the Feebs shoves a bagel for the road into Gonzo's hand while reminding him of their lunch date that afternoon. Phoebe pointedly confirms that they'll meet at Gonzo's office before heading to the "bistro," then launches into a series of loud, smacking kisses with him, much to the discomfort and irritation of those seated at the table. The Chinless Wonder tosses off a casual, "Nice meeting you," and disappears to commence his Walk Of Shame. He's barely out of earshot before Phoebe blares the news of her delightfully deadly premonition from the evening. Raige cocks a brow upon learning Gonzo bit it in a police shootout and asks, "Don't you normally have premonitions about the evil nasty people?" "Usually," Phoebe confirms, "but not always." True, but I don't recall it happening after the first season. The Dolt opines that Phoebe's power progression allows her to detect "natural" as well as supernatural threats. Phoebe begs one of her sisters to accompany her to the lunch date to provide assistance, if necessary. Piper narrows her eyes and mumbles that, given the nature of the premonition, the Glamorous Ladies "maybe aren't supposed to protect" Gonzo. Phoebe snots that Piper's reaction is "a little insensitive," and she's the gal who should know from insensitive, yes? Piper fires back with the following non sequitur, which she reads aloud from the newspaper in her hand: "A rebound romance burns fast and hot, like a shooting star. It leaves the rebounder blind to the flameout ahead." "Who wrote that psychobabble?" Phoebe grunts. "That would be from the 'Ask Phoebe' column," Raige smirks. "To 'Rebounding In Rockport.'" We catch a glimpse of Phoebe's column in the newspaper, and not only is the correspondent's photograph to her byline hideous, but from what I can read of the column itself, it appears to be a collection of random, two-sentence opinions on entirely unrelated topics with no letters from readers at all. I don't know where to begin, but I'll try here: Phoebe sees the guy she's banging mown down during an arrest gone wrong, and Piper's telling her that's what Phoebe gets for investing too much time in a rebound romance? The hell? Like I said, I hate Ken Marino as much as the guy, but Piper. Really. Try to dredge up a more artful justification for your opposition to the relationship. Please? Oh, and "Rockport"? As in Maine? Pull the other one. Idiots.

Phoebe burbles something about surprising Gonzo for lunch while Gonzo mindlessly blurts, "You saved my life!" over and over again. Finally, he offers his thanks. Phoebe goofs that The Chinless Wonder can thank her that evening during a candlelit dinner for two at the Manor. "I'll kick my sisters out of the house," she vows. Er. I mean, "suggests." Gonzo, dazed, smiles weakly and leans in for a kiss. Phoebe's immediately plunged into another delightful premonition. The shot switches to a Feebs-eye view of Phoebe herself toting a tray of desserts over to the dining room table as Gonzo enthuses, "Oh. Wow." Moron. This is followed by a terrifying close-up of The Chinless Wonder's grinning, soon-to-be-dead mug. An unseen force off to the side enters with a bit of noise and slams a dagger into Gonzo's chest. Whee! Gonzo topples backwards in his chair to the floor. The final shot is of Gonzo's lifeless head smacking onto the floorboards as his googly eyes glaze over. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Slow-forward. Phoebe snaps out of this premonition with a bit more grace than she did the last, but The Chinless Wonder still picks up on Phoebe's rattled dismay. He suggests that they head off for some coffee, because the jittery after-effects of near-death experiences demand copious amounts of caffeine, or something.

As the two sick-making lovebirds wander off down the alleyway, the camera shoots over to one of the alleyway's brick walls. The brick facade squiggles a bit before disengorging an unholy cross between Campbell Scott and Jamie Kennedy. You might recognize this gentleman from such craptastic televised extravaganzas as Baywatch and Love Boat: The Wave. Yes, he's one of those. I can't pretend I don't already know this character's name is Bacarra, so I'll dispense with the awkward nicknames. So, Bacarra glides a hand into the squiggling facade, intones something in Craptin ("Consilio," if you must know), and a bit of plastic shrubbery on a dolly slides over to block access to the squiggly portal. Bacarra blinks out.

Casa Del Cole. The demon of the Casa slouches in an armchair, shoveling Chinese take-out from a carton into his mouth with a pair of chopsticks. He's unshaven. Bed-head abounds. Does he still have a job after last week's Barbas-related law firm hijinks? It's never explained. Bacarra blinks in. Cole eyes the intruder and grunts indifferently, "Who the hell are you?" Bacarra introduces himself and announces that he's been sent from the future. As proof of this claim, he flicks a silver wedding band into Cole's hand. Cole munches on his lo mein and examines the ring's inscription. He rises from his chair to saunter over to the mantel, where he retrieves the ring's twin from a small pewter box. Cole takes a moment, then lunges at Bacarra, tossing him against a wall while sneering, "Where'd you get my wedding band?" Long story short, Cole himself ordered Bacarra back through time to prevent Phoebe's death. You see, Phoebe was never meant to receive her initial premonition of Gonzo's untimely demise, and thus was never meant to save him. As "The Angel Of Death never gives up a claim," Gonzo will, over the six months, be the target of repeated destiny-driven attempts on his life. Phoebe, who falls in love with The Chinless Wonder at some point in the near future, shall continue to receive death-related premonitions until dying herself in one final attempt to prevent what has been preordained. Future Cole instructed Bacarra to inform Present Cole that Gonzo must die. Now. As Gonzo isn't an innocent in the strictest supernatural sense of the word, should Cole immolate him with a bit of Wicked Waste Land Mojo, Cole would simply be assisting The Angel Of Death in something that should have already happened anyway. Got that? Good. Cole pffts at Bacarra's tale and slumps back into his armchair for some more Chinese. Why should he trust a warlock? Because in the future, this particular warlock is Cole's closest advisor. In Hell. Yes, gentle reader, by May sweeps, Cole will once again be The Sole, King Of The Underworld. Yawn. Cole, agitated, hurls a Flaming Ball Of Death at Bacarra, who promptly blinks out. The FBOD harmlessly scorches a decorative pillar. Bacarra blinks back in behind Cole, snickering something about Future Cole warning him of that particular reaction. Bacarra shrugs his shoulders and asserts that he'll off Gonzo himself. "Wish me luck," he croons before blinking out of the Casa one last time.

Piper hits the walk opposite The Chinless Wonder's place of employment and watches Phoebe's afghan-clad ass skitter through the front doors. That afghan, man. Jesus. When the delivery van blocks Present Piper's Jeep, Future Piper charges across the street and slides into the passenger seat to speed-talk her way through the relevant facts, which basically boil down to, "If Gonzo doesn't bite it, Phoebe and Raige will." Present Piper is duly outraged. Future Piper tells herself to cram it, and snits, "Look, don't argue with me, okay? Just let [Gonzo] die!" She furiously pinches Present Piper's arm, then drops the shoulder of her jacket to display the resulting bruise. But how would the bruise appear on Future Piper's arm if she...oh, fuck it. Future Piper's final instruction is, "When Phoebe asks, 'Left or right?' go to the right, and when this is all over, just let Phoebe know it was meant to be, okay?" Present Piper gapes. Future Piper pauses to add, "The time she falls for a guy, do not stand in her way," then disappears from the Jeep. Present Piper pouts, "Hey! I'm not standing in her way!" Snerk.

Phoebe emerges from the office building, and the subsequent events unfold much as before, wailing sirens and straining jogging bras and all. However, this time around and after a moment's hesitation, Piper follows her future self's advice, steering Phoebe off to the right once they reach the intersection. "God help me," Piper murmurs before chasing off after her hideously-coiffed sister's afghan-clad ass. Halfway down the block, Phoebe spots the squad cars barreling in the opposite direction and takes off after them. Fortunately, traffic prevents her from crossing the street. Off-screen, My New Gangbanging Husband squeezes off a couple of rounds. The camera cuts to the sun-drenched alleyway, where The Chinless Wonder takes a couple of rounds in his chest. The shot shifts into slow motion as Gonzo's lifeless head slams into the asphalt, a thin trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth as his googly eyes glaze over. Hee! God, I hope Jessica caught this episode. Anyway, Phoebe rushes to Gonzo's side and cradles his dead head in her arms as Present Piper gets a little emotional. The shot slides back into real time as Present Piper glances through welling tears over to her future self, who has silently entered the alleyway amid the confusion. Future Piper nods her head sadly and dematerializes in a golden glow. Meanwhile, Phoebe drips snot all over Gonzo's rapidly cooling corpse while My New Gangbanging Husband and I address invitations to our commitment ceremony. The Chinless Wonder is dead! Hooray!

Manor, that evening. Piper and Raige ease themselves into the Bimbo Boudoir bearing solemn faces and plates of comfort food, only to find Short Attention Span Phoebe jamming away in front of her mirror with a Walkman glued to her ears. So much for those silly stages of grief, right? This woman has the brain of a gnat. And the Lessons Of The Week? No lesson for Raige, because Slampiece Max took care of her issues in the pre-credits sequence. Phoebe acknowledges that Gonzo was indeed little more than a rebound romance, and she promises to live in the now from here on out, or something. Piper vows never to interfere with Phoebe's romances again. Raige raises a suspicious brow. "Piper, is there something you know that we don't know?" "Let's just say," Piper allows, "that I had a little premonition of my own." Piper grins mischievously and darts from the room with Phoebe and Raige hard on her heels.

week, yet another tiresome gentleman cheats Death and returns from beyond the grave. This one barfs on Raige's shoes. Have fun!