Baby's First Demon

A series of rather impressive thunderstorms rolled through the Chicago area yesterday afternoon, flooding some of the side streets, knocking down power lines, setting fire to random ranch homes in Schaumburg, and generally making the evening commute hell for all those SUV-driving tools from the suburbs. My new office is on the top floor of the tallest building for blocks around, and my desk sits directly beneath a very large, very old skylight. At the height of these storms, when the sky turned an eerie greyish-green and the floor beneath my feet vibrated each time a thunderclap erupted overhead, I found myself wishing a lightning bolt would shatter through the skylight above to strike me dead, just so I wouldn't have to watch this wretched episode again.

Shut up, Phoebe. No, I mean it: Shut UP! BabyCam, with the extra-special bonus fish-eye lens. Charmed's resident hag lady leans over the left side of The Done One's frilly white bassinet, babbling, "Oooh, I could eat him up! I swear I could -- with a little ranch dressing!" Stow it, shrike. Piper, at the bottom of the frame, seems as annoyed with her sister's behavior as I am, and snarls, "Please don't, okay?" "I can't make that promise," singsongs the Feebs before pulling away from the camera to allow the Dolt's gigantic gargoyle head access to the lens. "Don't listen to your aunties, okay?" he coos. "They're a little kooky!" What's with this "they're" shit, Dolt? From what I can see, Phoebe's the only jackass "auntie" present. Thus far, Raige has been staring down grimly from the upper right-hand corner of the screen, no doubt cursing the day she decided to look up these morons in the first place.

The shot shifts out of the bassinet as the Dolt straightens himself up to add, "Us guys gotta stick together, don't we, Peter?" "'Peter'?" Piper yowls incredulously. The Dolt insists that he's "just floating" the name as a possibility, and through this we know they have yet to saddle The Done One with a permanent moniker. As this episode was originally meant to air a month ago, I won't wonder why it's taken them six weeks to decide upon a name. Phoebe immediately nixes Peter as an option -- she once dated a Peter in high school, you see, and her memories of the experience are anything but pleasant. Way to make naming your sister's baby all about you, you selfish, self-centered twit. When Raige reminds them that Peter is also "the name of the appendage he has that surprised us all so much," the Dolt caves. Raige wonders why they never considered "P boy names," leading Piper to wax nostalgic about her trip to the future, wherein she had a daughter named "Prudence Melinda." Uh-huh. Except for the "Prudence" part, honey. Phoebe goofs that a boy named Prue might as well wear a sign that says "Kick Me In My Non-Existent Nuts" to school, and while she has a point, she's so irritating about it that I'm compelled to tell her to cram it sideways. Again.

Apropos of nothing save the impending demonic conceit of the evening, Raige notes that should the little cracker get bullied by hateful preadolescent thugs, "he could just zap them onto the roof like Harry Potter would." The four discuss The Done One's as-yet-unknown powers. Because I couldn't care less about that particular topic if I tried, I'll discuss the wardrobe choices for the evening. Piper's in a very subdued chocolate-colored button-up blouse over alarmingly tight jeans that make her look hippy; Raige sports a white top with unfortunate cap sleeves, over a pair of low-rise cargoes accented with a cherry-red apple-shaped belt buckle; and the Dolt's surprisingly trim from the waist up in a form-fitting long-sleeved shirt with dark green rugby stripes. Shockingly enough, the clear winner of tonight's fashion lottery is the Feebs, who hasn't looked this good since the early part of Season Four. She's clad in an calf-length midnight blue skirt with a ruched, diagonal front seam, under a relatively low-key cranberry-toned top that features a strip of gauzy white fabric around the bottom hem that almost shields her navel from our view. Her hair's smoothed back into a matching cranberry snood studded with tiny faux seed pearls, and the makeup, for once, is subtle, with lightly-applied eye shadow and lipstick. Was Eilish an early victim of the SARS, or something? ["I do what I can." -- Sars]

Banter about naming the unfortunate infant "Potter" follows, during which the Dolt confesses that the kid'll be a Halliwell regardless of his first name. "Demons fear" and "good magic respects" the family name, and the Dolt wants what's best for his son. Aw. Not. Speaking of the unfortunate infant, The Done One takes this opportunity to squeal and wriggle around in his bassinet. Piper decides it's nap time, and boots her sisters from the room before gently tucking a blue, triquatra-emblazoned blanket around the kid. The camera eases in towards the infant, and I swear to God they switched babies for this shot. For one thing, this Done One has less hair. For another, he's Asian. Couldn't they find a suitable pair of twins for these scenes?

Whatever. Piper and the Dolt leave The Done One to rest and follow Phoebe and Raige into the hall, where Raige reveals that she's installed a supernatural alarm around the kid's crib in anticipation of the demonic attack that immediately follows this scene. It involves cowrie shells, but damned if I know how. As Raige vanishes into The Prue Halliwell Memorial Bimbo Boudoir Of Paisley Tit Slings And Other Fashion Atrocities, Phoebe tries to sneak back into Piper's room to watch The Done One sleep. Piper and the Dolt bust her and order her off to work to meet her new boss. Seems P3's receipts are down as of late, and with Raige still unemployed, Phoebe's income from The Bay Mirror is the only thing keeping them in diapers. Phoebe gratingly baby-talks that "new aunties" deserve maternity leave too before eventually disappearing down the stairs. The Dolt levels his gaze at the wife and wonders when Piper's going to have a word with the Feebs regarding the latter's unhealthy attachment to The Done One. "Yesterday, she was giving you breastfeeding advice," he gripes, "and now she wants maternity leave?" "Well," Piper stammers, "she knows a lot about breasts!" Try "implants," doll. Never mentioned during this discussion? The purloined and vanquished Phoetus, which, while purportedly evil on a scale not seen since Mia Farrow's bitty one all those many years ago, still was percolating in Phoebe's uterus for a couple of months. That might explain Phoebe's current behavior, right? It would also be far too complex a character motivation for this show, so let's keep the recap moving, shall we?

The Dolt and Piper move in for a snog just as The Done One's cowrie shells go off. It sounds like a car alarm, and Raige has somehow wired it into the Manor's electrical system, for every wall sconce and floor lamp in the house winks on and off as sirens shriek in the background. If they're so concerned about their frigging cash flow, they should hook Raige up with union card. Raige bolts out of Prue Memorial to barrel past Piper and the Dolt just as two middle-aged demonic sorts shimmy on over to The Done One's bassinet. A glowing, spherical blue force field shoots out around the kid, knocking the demons onto their respective behinds. Piper deploys the Hands Of Discontent, and the demon on the right dissolves into a spray of black shards and flame. The portly, terrycloth-clad demon on the left glances up from the floor in fear before smearing out. What? I'm telling you, the guy was wearing a bathrobe. Piper mutters dark oaths to herself as she crosses to retrieve the wailing Done One from his crib. "Way to use your powers, little guy!" the Dolt enthuses. I'd tell him to blow it out that immense ass of his, but I'm far too distracted by the multiple baby swaps that follow. This sequence is quite obviously stitched together from multiple takes, and as a result, it looks like Piper approaches one infant, picks up another, cuddles an utterly immobile chunk of plastic that's been swaddled in a blue blanket, and gazes down with motherly concern upon yet another child. This last, pudgy Done One stares into the camera all cock-eyed for a moment until we all fall into the opening credits.

Tonight's opening travelogue is stunning. No, seriously -- it's absolutely gorgeous, with the most striking shot arriving just as Eric Dane's name appears in the guest-star scroll at the bottom of the screen. Someone hauled a camera up to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge's north tower to film this massive cascade of fog rolling into the bay from the ocean, with lower Marin basking in the sunlight in the background. It's so damn pretty, I'm almost able to block out the morose alterna-testicle they've chosen as this evening's featured "artist." Almost. Over on Prescott Street, Piper shrills about the pre-credits attack as she and Raige cross through the attic to the Book of Shadows. Raige leafs through the Book, expositing that the Dolt's orbed The Done One into the care of the ever-useless Elders until the gang at the Manor settles on a vanquishing strategy. Piper bitches and whines and moans about innocence lost and wah, just as the Dolt orbs into the background with that crappy prop they've jury-rigged as a stunt double for the teeming horde of infants sharing Done One duties. Because Grace Zabriskie's name led the opening credits, I've convinced myself that the crappy prop baby is actually a log.

Piper, of course, freaks when she realizes that the ever-useless Elders have refused to baby-sit. "They want us to prove to ourselves that we can protect him," the Dolt lames. The Log chokes on this foul bit of contrivance, so Piper retrieves It from the Dolt's arms to comfort It over on the attic sofa. Raige, meanwhile, has identified the portly, bathrobe-wearing pre-credits escapee as a "Hawker Demon." And just what is a Hawker Demon, you ask? The Book says it's "a breed of demon known for hawking magical goods at The Demonic Market." Duh! How could you not know that? Piper's outraged that her precious Log would be considered a magical good. If you'd like to know why I'm outraged, kindly refer to my anti-Pottermini-rant in the last recap. "Demonic Market," my ass. Just call it Pigscabs or Swinezits or whatever the hell it went by in those goddamned movies and be done with it. Yes, I know Hogwarts was the school, and no, I don't care. "The question," the Dolt notes rather astutely for one so thick-headed, "is who would want to buy [The Log], and why?"

Smash-cut to Swinezits, and wow. Much as I detest the sudden appearance and importance of this previously unheard of marketplace, I have to admit, the production team has outdone itself setting the whole thing up. In fact, the overall production quality over the last ten or so episodes represents such a vast improvement over what's come before, I feel sorry it's all in service of the shitty, pandering-to-the-preadolescents scripts we've been forced to endure this season. In any event, various sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, waistoids, dweebies, dickheads, and one very righteous dude haggle over daggers and bones while Alyssa Milano's engraved with yet another belly tattoo. Sorry, my bad. That's actually just some random extra on the business end of the tattooing needle, though one does wonder why the other producers on staff chose to associate obnoxious body art with dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell.

Over in one of the stalls, a frightened young brunette stands strapped to a pole while the bathrobed Hawker trades tedious expository remarks with the pair of albinos who originally hired him to snatch Piper's precious Log away from the Manor. "We paid you for a [Log]," the shorter of the albinos spits, "not a gypsy." Apparently, The Albino Twins were "cursed" some time ago by a witch, and now must feed on the power of other magical entities to remain alive. They need The Log because Its built-in force field "makes [It] a perfect battery -- a self-sustaining, never-ending source of power." If The Albino Twins tap into said source, it "will return [them] to [their] former strength." The Hawker's all, "And this is my problemhow?" before brushing past them to wait on The One. The Only. The Insane Grace Zabriskie. Hooray! Crazy Grace sweeps past the various extras in Pigscabs proper to arrive at the Hawker's table in a straggly grey wig and the sort of all-black, post-apocalyptic, lashed-together-with-twine, Medea-on-crack fashions that were terribly popular with Japanese clothing designers at the end of the 1980s. I'd worry about that last remark dating me, but screw it. If I'm worshipping at the altar of Crazy Grace, I've already indicated just how far gone I am.

Crazy Grace gropes through an apparent barbiturate haze to order "the eyes of two dozen adult brown bats and a large boar's tongue" from the justifiably obsequious Hawker. The Albino Twins, meanwhile, bitch about Crazy Grace jumping ahead of them on line. Crazy Grace just fixes them with a look of utter contempt and snorts something about "bottom feeders" ruining her otherwise enjoyable morning of shopping. We love the Crazy Grace. Oh, yes we do. Crazy Grace sneers a bit more at The Twins before drawing herself short and sniffing distastefully at the air around them. Hee! Turning to address the Hawker, she darkly warns, "I sense danger. The task these leeches seek you for will only bring death and destruction, and not to our enemies." She punctuates this assertion with a wicked side-eye of regal proportions before collecting her parcel and exiting, taking with her any interest I had in this scene. The Albino Twins decide to buy the mute gypsy from the Hawker anyway, but double the price they're willing to pay for Piper's Precious Log.

The Bay Mirror, which apparently moved its newsroom from the low-slung Daly City office park we've seen in the past to a mid-rise pre-war edifice in San Francisco proper, if that establishing shot's anything to go by. Whatever. Elise Rothman, Girl Editor is warning her staff about possible layoffs in the wake of the paper's purchase by a certain "Jason Dean," whom Elise describes as "a dot-com millionaire known for shaking up the companies he buys." And all this time I thought Jason Dean was a squinty-eyed Nicholson manqu with a thing for blowing up pep rallies. Phoebe rudely interrupts the meeting to share some new pictures of The Done One with her coworkers. For some reason, Elise Rothman, Girl Editor does not plant a size nine in Phoebe's bony ass for doing so. While Phoebe and a few of her gal pals coo over the snapshots, a lanky, blue-eyed twentysomething with gravity defying hair and alarmingly expressive eyebrows sidles over to the ladies to wonder how long ago Phoebe gave birth. Phoebe distractedly replies that she's the infant's aunt before finally directing her attention at the curious gentleman. Of course, she's instantly smitten and horns up before our very eyes, fanning her overheated self with The Done One's photos. Needless to say, the curious gentleman is none other than the infamous Jason Dean, and I'll say this right now: As eye candy, Eric Dane should do just fine. He's a little frattish for my taste, and he's eerily reminiscent of Slampiece Fauxhawk, but hey -- if they're going to limit my choices to Phoebe's new boss and the Dolt, I think it's clear whom I have to pick.

Of course, it also helps that Eric Dane can, you know, act. "I always pictured a newspaper bullpen as being a little more, I don't know, bustling," he offers, placing amusing emphasis on that last word. The gathered staff members eye each other warily for a beat before busily bustling away. Heh. Elise apologetically introduces herself and offers to lead Dane on a tour, but he chooses to dawdle a bit with the flirtatious Feebs. The paper's circulation is down, he notes, and he plans to bring it back up by exploiting Phoebe's much-praised and never-displayed gift for journalism. Once again, the Donna Martin Syndrome rears its prominent schnozz on prime time television. Phoebe stammers nervously in response to the compliment before adding, "I'm sorry about the little picture show." Dane assures her that if he had "a nephew that cute," he'd be showing him off to everyone as well. "Best I can do," he admits, sliding his wallet from his back pocket, "is a picture of my dog." Dane's mutt bears a suspicious resemblance to Literal Bitch Prue, but all Phoebe manages to gasp is, "He has your eyes!" Dane grins as he's led away by anxious, ass-kissing Elise. Phoebe fans herself some more, spins around, and doofs her way into her private office. I very nearly didn't hate her in that scene, and it's all because of the hair and makeup. For the first time in months, I got through a Phoebe scene without wanting to gouge out my eyes with a nail file because of the way she looked. Take a note, Dead Eilish's Replacement Costume Designer.

Up in the attic, Piper enters with her Precious Log, which magically transforms Itself into The Done One as she eases It into an antique baby carriage. I think the kid's power is shape-shifting, people. The Dolt spots the "scrying tools" lying about as Piper realizes that "the hand grenade potion" is missing. She also finds a note from the missing P that reads simply, "Gone to market -- back soon." The Dolt clenches, Piper fumes, and the clueless Feebs fails to understand the note's implications.

Pigscabs Montage. A beefy enforcer escorts Raige through the demonic throng. A power broker with Vulcan ears flogs Flaming Balls Of Death, while over on a nearby stage, a wimpy git demonstrates his fast-acting super-steroid elixir, morphing from wimp to 'roid rager with one sip. Raige thanks the beefball for the tour. When the beefball gets unnecessarily frisky, she summons an FBOD from a nearby demonette's hand with her orbing telekinesis. The beefball howls and wails and vanishes in a gout of flame. The demonette simply shrugs and conjures up another FBOD as Raige makes her way up to The Albino Twins' apartment.

Raige enters Chez Albino to discover The Twins sucking the remaining life force out of that mute gypsy from earlier. After the gypsy slumps over dead, Raige attempts to bluff her way through a Precious Log bounty negotiation with the red-eyed boys, but blows her cover when she prematurely unleashes the "hand grenade potion." As the vial shatters on the floor and bursts into a fireball, The Albino Twins throw out their hands and suck up all of the potion's magic. They then turn their Hands Of Suck on Raige, who loses her frightful wig in the ensuing miniature whirlwind that arises as The Albino Twins drain her into unconsciousness. We head into the commercial break as the Hands Of Suck siphon shimmery bits of whatever out of Raige's face.

God, I hate this episode.

Manor. Night. Up in the attic, Phoebe scries for Pigscabs with a crystal that smacks down right in the center of Golden Gate Park on her map, which only serves to irritate me more. An enormous demonic marketplace has been operating out of Golden Gate Park for God knows how many years, and the Glamorous Ladies never once encountered it until now? The idiot responsible for this storyline can blow me. After an endless round of bickering regarding which of the remaining Ps is responsible for Raige's current predicament -- during which Piper beats herself up for reneging on her initial agreement to accompany Raige to Swinezits, Phoebe strenuously denies spending the entire day trying to wrap her greedy hands around Chronic The Hedgehog's manly bits, and I resort to ungainly run-on sentences -- Phoebe asks for pen and paper to compose a spell that will transport them to Raige's current location. For some reason, as soon as Piper hands over the paper, Phoebe's flung into a premonition of The Albino Twins sucking the life out of Raige. It makes no sense, because the paper has no connection whatsoever to Raige, but whatever. "It's time to panic," Phoebe announces upon snapping out of it, just as the Precious Log's alarm goes off again.

Chez Suck. The Albino Twins loom over a prone, manacled, and whimpering Raige. The Twins decide to use Raige to lure Piper and Phoebe to Pigscabs, then head over to the Manor to abscond with Piper's Precious Log once Piper and Phoebe have left the house.

Manor attic. The Non-Asian Done One gurgles up at Piper, then morphs into Piper's Precious Log when the shot shifts away to a wide angle that includes the Dolt entering from the stairwell. The kid's got talent. More bickering, this time about the faulty alarm system. The Precious Log morphs into the Asian Done One as Piper approaches Phoebe to whine and complain, then morphs into the Non-Asian Done One for Phoebe's reaction shot. Meanwhile, the rusty gears embedded deep within the Dolt's scary, gigantic gargoyle head slowly begin to grind. "Piper," he suggests, "put [The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log] down." "What?" Piper barks back at him, as if he just suggested that she rip off the kid's leg so he could smack Phoebe around with it for a while. The Dolt urges Piper and Phoebe to trust him. Piper eases The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log into the antique carriage, and she and Phoebe retreat to the Dolt's side. Presently, Raige's alarm system goes off. "He's doing it," the Dolt explains. "[The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log] is using his powers to set off the alarm." Phoebe and Piper make with the nauseating "Who's a widdle genius?" noises while the Dolt beams proudly. Shut up, Dolt.

With the alarm situation sorted out, Piper and Phoebe prepare to transport themselves over to Swinezits. Piper, however, still finds it difficult to tear herself away from The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log. "It's just so hard to leave," she bleats. We get a shot of the infant-loopy Feebs resting her head on The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log's belly. Pause. "It's so hard to make Phoebe leave," Piper snits. Heh. "You take care of him," she instructs her husband. "I mean it -- one hair out of place? You. Me. Issues." Piper. Sweetheart. You? Him? More issues than the Chicago Public Library's periodicals archive, regardless of The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log's health. But that's a story for another episode, I suppose. The Dolt assures the wimminfolk he'll immediately orb The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log out of harm's way should the need arise. The screen flashes white, and

we're back in Golden Gate Park. A Flaming Ball Of You Will Be Knocked On Your Bony Derriere Now shoots past Phoebe's head as she and Piper emerge from the mist into Pigscabs's clearing. The remaining enforcer squiggles out of his tree to confront the Glamorous Gals. "Who are you?" he demands. "I'm the mother," Piper sneers, seething with barely contained anger and contempt. She deploys the Hands Of Discontent, and the remaining enforcer hurtles backwards through the portal, which zaps open as his body flies through. Piper and Phoebe storm into Swinezits, with Piper demanding, "Which one of you dirtbags put the bounty on my baby?" The assembled demonic throng just sort of gapes all, "Who's the hippy bitch?" Crazy Grace's face emerges from the gloom to eye the scene with growing unease as Piper starts blowing up demons left and right.

Meanwhile, up in Chez Suck, The Albino Twins stare down at the supernatural fireworks below for a moment before pulling a combined flare-and-smear exit from the apartment. Piper and Phoebe clomp over to the building as we zip back over to the Manor, where the Dolt's paging through a novel as Raige's alarm system goes off once more. He kneels at The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log's bassinet to tell the caterwauling kid/chunk of wood that "Mommy will be home soon." The Albino Twins slink up behind him to suck all the dolty goodness out of his scary, gigantic gargoyle head. Brian Krause unleashes his patented Constipated Chimpanzee Face Of Unbearable Anguish And Torment before dropping out of the frame. The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log's screams escort us into the final commercial break.

Chez Suck. Piper and Phoebe storm in to free the kitten-weak Raige, who mumbles barely understood warnings about The Albino Twins. As Piper and the Feebs drag Raige through the bombed-out remains of Pigscabs, Piper drops the embroidered blanket in the dirt. Crazy Grace scuttles over to retrieve it, notes the triquatra with absolutely insane amounts of alarm, and scuttles away.

Manor. The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log squeals and screams and cries as The Albino Twins suck on his force field. You think I'm kidding with that, don't you? The groggy Dolt manages to pull it together long enough to smash a lamp into one of The Twins' heads, then falls to his knees at The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log's side. The force field drops long enough to admit the Dolt, then flares back up again as The Albino Twins return for more suckage.

Attic. The Ps swarm into the room amid a swirling cloud of glowing golf balls. Piper and Phoebe ease Raige onto the sofa and scamper down the stairs. Once they hit the landing, Piper flings out her Hands, demolishing the shorter of The Twins. The remaining albino flears out. Once Piper confirms both the Dolt and The Non-Asian/Asian Precious Done One Log are okay, she and Phoebe head back to Swinezits.

Chez Suck. The remaining Twin, whom I'll call Albino Adrien because of his nose, flears into the room to find Crazy Grace waiting for him by the window. As she stares bleakly out at the ruins of Pigscabs, she wearily intones, "You did this to us. I warned you." Albino Adrien snots that witches destroyed Swinezits, not he and his late, unlamented partner in suck. Crazy Grace inhales sharply and wheels about to face him with the embroidered blanket clutched in her bony hands, as if she intends sear the flesh from his worthless body with one hate-filled, enraged glance. She stops short, though, when she catches sight of some undefined expression in his red eyes, and forces herself to calm down a bit. There's a very strange dynamic between these two in this scene, and it makes me wonder if Crazy Grace is actually Albino Adrien's mentor, or mother, or something. Whatever their relationship, it's certainly not scripted, which leads me to believe Grace Zabriskie hashed out some interesting character choices with this actor on her own. In any event, though calmer than when she first spun around, she still spits the following line with more conviction and deadly menace than I've ever seen on this show: "This child is powerful beyond your understanding. What I have foreseen is not to be ignored." I know it doesn't read that well on the page, but trust me: Crazy Grace is mopping the floor with this scene's ass.