P3. Raige ambles over to Phoebe and Piper at the bar, apologizing for getting "tied up." "Where," Piper smirks, "at [Castle Montanague]?" "Get your mind out of the gutter," Raige chides. "Hey," Phoebe snorts, "you're the one who orbs home to find lingerie." "Two times!" Raige protests. "I did that two times." "It's the only time we ever get to see you," Piper remarks. Raige admits that she has been slamming the slampiece quite often lately, leading Piper to remind her that dark demonic forces tend to take advantage of them when they're separated. "I just really don't want to think of us living together in fifty years," Raige whines. "Nah," Piper smiles. "Twenty, thirty years tops." If your psychotic son has anything to do with it, you'll all be toast the first time you yell at him for breaking curfew, honey, so you might want to revise that answer downwards a bit. Phoebe butts in to propose the establishment of an Asian branch of the Manor in Hong Kong so she'd be able to see Chronic more often. Because Phoebe is a selfish hag. Piper rolls her eyes and snarks, "How do you say 'dream on' in Chinese?" Phoebe instantly babbles an answer that sounds like "Nietzsche Chow, man." Ah, yes. Nietzsche Chow, for the existentialist, Beat-poet puppy in your life -- from Purina! Oh, shut up. This is the tenth Charmed recap in a row for yours truly, and I just found out the sadists at the WB have scheduled the eleventh episode for December 14th. The bastards are trying to kill me and I'll be missing the second part of Angels in America for this shit. Also, please don't get snotty by reminding me that Aaron frequently churns out thirteen brilliant recaps in a row for his shows, because I'll simply remind you that Aaron's shows are Milano-free. If he had to put up with The Continuing Adventures Of Chronic And Cooter every week for three months in a row, he'd be driving nails into his forehead with a sneaker, too.
Ahem. Innyway. Piper cocks a brow and allows a sardonic "impressive" at Phoebe's masterful command of the Chinese language. Phoebe giggles and changes the topic, wondering how Piper's been faring on the romance front as of late. "You and Greg?" she prompts, elbowing her reticent sister. "Put out any fires lately?" "Wait a minute," Raige eyebrows, "you're going out with a fireman?" "Proof positive you haven't been around much," Piper shoots back. Phoebe exposits for the benefit of Raige and the audience that Piper and this Greg person have been seeing each other for three weeks already, and Piper has yet to slide down his pole. Or something like that. My version's dirtier than hers, and when's the last time that happened? Piper claims she's a more than a bit hesitant to hop into the sack with a new guy after "sleeping with an angel for three years," and pardon me while I take a moment to shut my laptop so I can whack it against my head over and over again in an attempt to beat that horrific image out of my brain. Ah. It's gone. Good. Phoebe then references Piper's unfortunate habit of "freezing [the Dolt] during all the good parts," and leers that Piper should do the same with her fireman. Shut up, you disgusting pig. "I'm not freezing Greg," Piper states flatly. "I'm so nervous, I'd probably blow him up." Raige and Phoebe titter at this, because they're eleven years old. "Gutter!" Piper howls.
As Piper's sisters snicker wickedly, her younger son lopes over with, "What are you guys talking about?" "Stuff," Phoebe lies, and trust me, doll: If there's one topic Big Gay Chris is entirely comfortable discussing, it's blowjobs. Ooops. Did I just say that out loud? The gals invite Big Chris to join them for cocktails, but he declines, citing the prep work he has yet to finish for the vanquish. "I didn't come here to relax," he reminds them, and with that, he heads back towards the club's office. "That is one bitchy Whitelighter," Phoebe mugs, like, you're one to talk, trash. By the way, some of you might be interested to learn that the scripted version of that observation was "lonely Whitelighter." Why the change? Duh. You have been watching the show this season, right? In any event, Raige suggests Piper have a word with "the guilt machine," so my mother-in-law rolls her eyes and slides off her barstool to trail after my husband.
Back in the office, Big Gay Chris opens the door and flicks on the lights to find the lovely and talented (and seemingly ubiquitous -- she was also prominently featured in an episode of Nip/Tuck) Marisol Nichols waiting for him with a Cheshire grin on her face. Shocked, he eases the door shut behind him while breathing, "Bianca." The Trademark Without Pity goes to Deerstalker for rechristening her "LesBianca," and yes, the name fits -- partly because poor Ms. Nichols has been squeezed into a black, sleeveless PVC top with matching pants that would increase tenfold the street cred of any dyke on her bike, but also because LesBianca's presently revealed to be Big Gay Chris's "fiancée" from the future, like, nice try, guys, but forcing a saucy Latina beard on Big Gay Chris isn't going to change any minds regarding his true orientation. Especially not mine. "What are you doing here?" Big Chris whispers as LesBianca rises to place a finger on his pouty lips. "There'll be time to explain later," she coos, dragging that finger down his chest. LesBianca, incidentally, sports a red, inverted wishbone tattoo on her inner wrist. She gazes at him with moist eyes for a moment before punching her fist through his shirt and into his chest, and you'll have to look elsewhere for the fisting joke that would appear here were I really as depraved as everyone seems to think I am. The hole gouged by LesBianca's fist glows an eye-searing white as Big Chris gasps and slowly falls to his knees. Piper glides in at this point, singing, "All work and no…hey!" Heh. LesBianca rips her hand out of Big Chris's chest to conjure a Flaming Ball Of Death as Piper deploys her Hands Of Discontent. LesBianca explodes into a spray of shards that quickly vanishes, leaving behind nothing more than a wraithlike twist of smoke that disappears up through the ceiling. Big Chris drops the rest of the way to the floor, grimacing in pain. "Are you okay?" Piper asks, crossing to help him up. "Who was she?" As Big Chris rises to his feet, he looks Piper straight in the eye and lies, "I don't know."
Out in the alleyway behind the bar, the wraithlike twist of smoke swirls in above the asphalt, picking up speed as it draws in the various LesBianca shards remaining from the supposed vanquish. LesBianca herself presently reforms from the feet up and flips her hair around to toss a sullen glare at the building before stalking off a few paces and squiggling her way into the opening credits.
Attic. Raige flips to the inky representation of some goateed demonic force in the Book of Shadows, and asks Piper if the guy's tattoo resembles the one she spotted on LesBianca's arm. "No," Piper replies as she crosses to curl up on the divan to Phoebe. "It looked more like a bird." Raige pffts, "So you're saying maybe the Audubon Society sent the demon after us?" "Just keep looking," Piper wearily replies. Big Gay Chris, rather shiftily pacing on the carpet, insists he's fine. From his perch on a nearby table, the Dolt muses that LesBianca might actually be a Darklighter. Phoebe dimly blurts that nothing else would be after a Whitelighter like her nephew, and Big Chris for his part again vows he's fine as he paces off the carpet and onto this evening's Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance. The Dolt suspiciously asks his younger son how LesBianca got close enough to ram her fist through his breastbone if he honestly had never met her before. Avoiding the issue, Big Chris points to The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance and suggests, "You really ought to fix that, you know?" "C'mon," the Dolt squints, "who's after you?" "Maybe she was after them," Big Chris evasively snots, hiking a thumb at the Glamorous Ladies. "Kinda makes sense," Raige shrugs. "Finally!" Big Chris shouts, gesturing widely with his arms in his aunt's general direction. "Somebody's listening to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some work to take care of."
He spins on his heel and exits as the Dolt shoots A Look at the others. He believes Big Chris is lying, but Raige opines he hasn't any reason to do so. The Dolt asks Phoebe if her Fucking Backup Band picked anything up, but Phoebe admits she "could never sense anything" from Big Chris. There's a contemplative pause, after which Piper asks her ex-husband what he's thinking. "If we can figure out who she is," he replies, referring to LesBianca, "we might be able to figure out who Chris is." Raige slams the Book shut and bails, claiming that they'll never figure anything out until they have more to go on, and reminds them they'll know where to find her if they need her. Phoebe rises from the sofa to leave as well. "You're just going to let them go?" the Dolt splutters, crossing to Piper. "What do you want me to say?" she replies. "They have lives, too. Besides, what more can we do?" The Dolt gestures to the Book and blithers about research as the doorbell rings. He orbs off to answer it, instructing Piper to remain in the attic to work on the LesBianca issue. Piper realizes who might be at the door, and bolts from the divan to race down the stairs.
Down in the main hall, the Dolt orbs in by the front door and opens it to find yet another of trampy Paris Hilton's former boyfriends lounging on the porch. This would be Fireman Greg, as played by Jason Shaw, and to be honest, Piper should have stuck with Darling Derek from last week or that scruffy guy from her pointless subplot a few episodes ago, because those guys? Were hot. This loser? Not so much, and besides, I'm sure he's still crawling with Hilton cooties even now, three years after they broke up. Awkwardness ensues as the Dolt realizes that Greg's there to escort Piper out on the town for the evening. Piper bustles up to make the formal introductions, and Fireman Greg's pretty easygoing about meeting the ex. Piper, eager to extract herself from this embarrassing situation, hurriedly asks the Dolt, "So, you're going to be okay taking care of everything -- [our soulless sociopath of an infant] and [Big Gay] Chris?" "Absolutely," the Dolt smiles wistfully. "Really, everything will be fine." Piper ignores the rue coloring his tone, bids him goodnight, and flees. The Dolt eases the door shut behind her and mopes. Hey, Dolt! Nobody told you to abandon your family last May. Suck it up, you deadbeat jackhole.
Up in the bathroom, Big Gay Chris gingerly tugs his t-shirt down from his neck to reveal a spectacularly gory wound glistening on his chest. He stares at its reflection in the mirror, then lifts his eyes to stare into his own. Aww. He looks like he's about to cry. C'mere, hubby o' mine. Let Demian make it all better. Big Chris slowly rebuttons his shirt and leans heavily against the sink, blinking back tears. He eventually straightens up and digs around in his pants pocket to withdraw a tawdry little engagement ring I'd not be surprised to learn he found at the bottom of a Cracker Jacks box. Assuming, of course, they even have Cracker Jacks in the hellish future from which he's traveled, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself. As Big Chris examines the thing, the shots cross-fades from his face to…
…land in that hellish future from which my husband has traveled. How do I know we've arrived in said hellish future? Because of that assily CGI'd personal spaceship puttering across the screen. Also, the shot encompasses the San Francisco skyline as viewed from one of the hills, and while the Transamerica Pyramid remains pointy and erect, the same cannot be said for nearly all of the surrounding towers. One building appears to have been sheared in half, another has a still-smoking gash in its side, and the center of the frame's occupied with what appears to be a fifteen-story pile of rubble. The bizarre little spaceship whirs above it all before the shot cuts to another view of future destruction, this time of the Golden Gate Bridge. Half of the northern support and most of the roadway have sheared away. The camera pans down from the bridge to land in a scorched garden, where Future Big Gay Chris slips the tacky engagement ring onto Future LesBianca's finger. She's got a pretty nifty French manicure for a gal living in a war zone. She's also sporting a silver lamé micro miniskirt that threatens to flash us with beaver every time she uncrosses her legs. The cinematography for these future scenes, by the way, is a close cousin of the ChinoCam, in that everything's tinted a bleak and chilly blue that oddly enough makes all of the pretty people on the TV even prettier. Sigh.
Anyway, Big Gay Chris proposes to LesBianca in what he calls "our spot." I'll not be holding this against him, because he of course has yet to meet me in the timeline presented in these scenes. LesBianca agrees to marry him on one condition -- that Big Chris returns safely from the past. They mack, only to be interrupted by a chittering, airborne video camera. No, seriously. It's this minicam with, like, wings or something, and it shoots out an array of lights that flicker across LesBianca's face. Big Gay Chris tosses a hand around, telekinetically smashing the thing against a shattered statue on the far side of the garden. "Are you okay?" he asks. "Yeah," she replies. "I don't think it had time to transmit." "I can't believe he's sending probes after us now," Big Chris snits, rising to his feet. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch." He's so cute when he's trying to be butch. "No!" LesBianca cries, rising to latch onto his arms. "You need to stick to the plan," she insists. "You have to go back -- it's the only way to stop him. It's the only way to change all of this." She sadly kisses his hand, and he leans in to rub his forehead against hers before the scene cross-fades back to…
…teary Gay Chris in the present. His eyes dart from the ring to his own reflection before he closes them and sobs.
Castle Montanague, the following morning. Slampiece Buttfuck totes a breakfast tray with a rather prominent glass of champagne -- like, way to support the girlfriend with the self-professed alcohol issue, you wonkily-eyebrowed dipshit -- into the master bedroom, and gently places the whole thing to a delighted Raige, who's reclining on the canopied bed. They get schmoopy and mack before Raige pulls away to warn, "You better be careful, 'cause a girl could get used to this." "That's the plan," Buttfuck smirks. Raige demurely averts her eyes and giggles. "Did you tell your sisters you're moving out?" he asks. Raige hems and haws and eventually admits she hasn't, claiming that "things have been a little funky" lately. "There's never a good time," he leads. "You don't understand," she counters. "Piper would probably blow a major gasket, and then there are the family obligations, and like it or not, we're stronger together." "You gotta do something for you," Buttfuck argues. Raige blinks. Then, her cell phone rings. "It's the house," she sighs, glancing at the caller ID before answering.
thing we know, Raige is orbing onto the sun porch to find the Dolt sitting at the table with The Doltine Psycho perched on one of his knees and the Book of Shadows lying open in front of him. The Dolt gives her one look and mutters, "When I said I needed you, I meant a fully-clothed you." Wait, so the peach-colored shift she's wearing is supposed to be an undergarment? Because God knows we've seen her "fully-clothed" in far less. Whatever. "What's the big emergency?" Raige grumbles as the camera tracks in towards the Dolt. "What would you say if I told you the creature who attacked Chris was called a Phoenix?" he asks. Raige rolls her eyes. "I'd say, 'What's a Phoenix?' and then you'd probably tell me." Taking the hint, he slides the Book over to her to indicate the Phoenix entry. It contains a representation of LesBianca's tattoo, and reads as follows:
Descended from the Witch Trials with vengeance in their hearts the Phoenix are a family of assassin witches who are very elite and very powerful and who are born with the distinctive birthmark of the Phoenix symbolizing their rise from Salem's ashes. They have no allegiances other than to their own vengeance and they will seek out and kill any bounty they're hired to hunt down.
They're called "commas," props people. Start using them. The Dolt identifies Big Gay Chris as the Phoenix's current "bounty." "Did you call Phoebe and Piper?" Raige asks. The Dolt notes that Phoebe's at work, and as Piper didn't return from her date until the wee small hours of the morning, he didn't want to disturb her. "Did she come home alone?" Raige wonders uneasily. The Dolt shrugs. "Hey!" Piper perks from the hall, still in her robe. "Talking about me?" "No!" the Dolt too-quickly replies, before babbling something about The Doltine Psycho's feeding schedule and passing the dead-eyed sociopath to his mother to bumble out of the room in search of some coffee. Raige fills Piper in, then hesitantly confesses that she and the Dolt were wondering if Fireman Greg will be embarking upon his Walk Of Shame anytime soon. Piper squirms and reveals that she didn't invite him in the evening. "Maybe he's just not the right guy?" Raige suggests. Piper shakes her head. "It's just weird now that I'm a mom," she sighs. "I feel like I'm betraying [The Psycho] somehow." That's healthy, Piper. Not. And talking about it in front of the precocious freak now staring at your tits? Even better. "So, coven of assassin witches," Piper segues abruptly, no longer wishing to ponder her warped love life. Should they fetch the Feebs from work? What if they need the Power of Three? Raige reminds Piper that she vanquished LesBianca on her own, and besides, they "need to try out this whole Power of Two thing" and "learn how to be flexible." She instructs Piper to remain on the sun porch while she fetches a scrying crystal. Piper glances down at the Oedipal creep balanced on her hip and goes, "Hmmm."
All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me. Elise Rothman, Girl Editor exhorts Phoebe to take some time off and visit Chronic in Hong Kong. Phoebe complains that it's "just another airport" in "just another city," and if anyone knows from cheap airport hotel rooms in anonymous cities, it's the Feebs. "You can always send in your column," Elise prompts. "Email, fax machine -- it's the twenty-first century, and I'd like to welcome you to it!" Phoebe allows herself a small smile and drops her head. Elise urges Phoebe to take as much time as she needs -- to go ahead and live with Chronic in Hong Kong and discover if they're meant to be. Phoebe rolls her eyes, and much as it pains me to say this, word, Phoebe. I hate relationship chatter. "Look," Elise continues in a no-bullshit tone of voice, "it's time I gave you some advice for once: Don't let it be work." Off Phoebe's quizzical expression, Elise explains, "There's a whole generation of women out there who followed the dream [and] built successful careers, but at the expense of everything else." Phoebe frowns. "Now, I'm not saying they all made mistakes," Elise hastens to add, "because some of them are very happy. But some of us aren't. Trust me, you don't want to wake up one day and realize that all you've got is your career." Phoebe nose ring looks pensive. I'd look enraged, but I'm convinced Elise is simply using this little speech to exploit Phoebe's transparent neediness, thereby convincing the irritating twit to move three thousand miles away so Elise won't have to share the office with an aggravating bitch anymore. Thus, I am letting it slide.
Somewhere else, a short-haired blonde who bears a disturbing resemblance to a much younger Carol Burnett eases open her apartment's door to find Raige and Piper smirking at her from the hall. "How's it going?" Piper grins. "Can I help you?" Carol wonders, a bit befuddled. Raige lies that they just moved to the city from out of state, and they wanted to meet their new neighbors. Politely playing along while clearly not caring, Carol's all, "Really? From where?" "Phoenix!" Piper practically shouts. Carol's eyes widen just a bit, but she quickly recovers her composure and steps aside to invite them in. Once they've crossed the threshold, Carol shuts and locks the door. As the Glamorous Ladies admire Carol's pad, an obnoxious five-year-old girl trips in to tug on Carol's sleeve and nag her about something entirely unimportant. While Carol deals with her daughter, "Bianca," Piper and Raige catch sight of the wishbone tattoo on the kid's forearm. Carol hustles the brat into her bedroom as Raige gulps, "Now what?" Carol answers this by conjuring a Flaming Ball Of Death she quickly hurls at the two intruders. Piper shoves Raige out of the way, and the FBOD flies past to vanquish a tchotchke on the coffee table. Carol prepares another FBOD, but Piper unleashes her Hands Of Discontent, and the blonde explodes into a million tiny shards. The nosy Ps scoot across the room to barge into Bianca's bedroom, and slam through the door in time to witness Carol's rematerialization. Said rematerializing, by the way, resembles a cloud of variably-shaded puzzle pieces knitting themselves together into Carol form. Moderately cool effect. Carol scoops Bianca up into her arms and squiggles out. "They can reform?" Raige gapes. "Apparently," Piper bleats. "Which means the one that attacked Chris can, too." Can and did, sweetpea. You might want to pay attention to your own goddamned pre-credits sequence every now and then.
Cut to the garden where Big Gay Chris will not propose to LesBianca at some point in the future because he and I were married last summer. It's considerably cheerier compared to the last time we saw it. Unfortunately, that shattered sculpture at the far end of the lawn? Is actually an anvilicious angel. I much prefer it destroyed. An orb cloud full of Big Gay Chris slowly descends from the sky, struggles to coagulate, and eventually knocks itself together long enough to emit my husband, who collapses onto a stone bench. "You really shouldn't try to orb anymore," LesBianca notes, emerging from behind Archangel Anvil. "It could kill you." "Is that what you want?" Big Chris shudders, gasping for breath. "If that's what I wanted," LesBianca chuckles as she saunters over with her hands on her hips, "you'd already be dead. All I want is to bring you back." Big Chris wonders how she knew he'd orb to that particular garden. "Same reason you knew I'd be waiting here," she shrugs. "This is still our spot." Big Gay Chris begs to differ. "This is what we hoped it would be. This is what we were trying to preserve for our future." LesBianca cuts him off sharply with a curt "We were naïve to think we could change anything." Chris shoots her a vicious side-eye and wonders how "He" managed to drag LesBianca to the dark side, or wherever. LesBianca insists that's not important. What is important is that she was interrupted while fisting him of his powers, and if she doesn't finish what she started, Big Chris will die. Erm. "Stripping." Stripping him of his powers. "Think of it as an infection," she tells him, "and I'm the only one with the antidote." "Here or there, I'm dead anyway," Big Chris sighs, disillusioned and defeated. "No," she counters. "He gave me his word He wouldn't hurt you. Now, please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be." Big Gay Chris raises his shaggy head, glares at her, and orbs away. LesBianca lunges for his orb cloud, but ends up with a fistful of air.
Back at the house, Phoebe's joined the other Manor Morons for a processing summit when Big Gay Chris arrives in his sputtering orb cloud to collapse to the carpet in the hall. The Manor Morons race to his side and arrive in time to hear Big Chris moan, "[LesBianca]!" before dropping from consciousness into the commercial break.
Manor parlor. Big Gay Chris sprawls on one of the sofas as the Dolt applies the tingly touch to the gaping wound in his chest. When the tingly touch doesn't take, the Dolt realizes, "Something's draining his powers and blocking mine. It's like a virus." While the Manor Morons bang their heads together to come up with a plan, Phoebe's Fucking Backup Band kicks in to further along the plot. I think. "Oh, my God," Phoebe breathes, kneeling at his side. "He loves her -- she broke his heart." Whatever, Feebs. Still not buying this whole Big Heterosexual Chris thing, but you carry on trying to sell me on it if it makes you feel better. Big Chris's hand twitches, and Phoebe opens his fingers to discover the tacky engagement ring. "Obviously an acrimonious split," Raige harrumphs. Piper collects the ring to scry for LesBianca, and orders the other two to work on a vanquish "in case she's not willing to help" once they locate her. The ladies exit, leaving the worried Dolt alone with his younger son. Big Chris pants LesBianca's name once more before dropping his head to one side, and we…
…flash to the future Manor, where Lisa Kushell from Mad TV leads a group of tourists through the main floor. "Welcome to the Halliwell Memorial Museum," she tells them, "a tribute to magic and, of course, the Charmed Ones." She instructs the group not to take photos or use magic while on museum property, and adds they should ignore the whirring camcorders floating in the air, as "they're merely scanning for witches." The tourists follow Lisa down the hall as Big Gay Chris and LesBianca linger at the entrance to the parlor. Big Chris wiggles his fingers at the probes, knocking them across the room to scan the head of a dress form wrapped in a black evening gown I should probably recognize, but don't. "Nicely done," LesBianca whispers as Big Chris chews on one of his knuckles. By the way, the "Egyptian" urn from that first-season episode I have yet to recap is rather prominently placed in the parlor's display area, and I thought they returned that thing to its rightful owner in exchange for Clay's life, but whatever. Big Chris and LesBianca trail after the group as Lisa announces, "Around you, you'll notice just a few of the many mythological creatures the legendary sisters transformed into in their demon-fighting heyday." The camera pans past Pre-Raige's green velvet medieval gown, Piper's Little Red Riding Hood cloak, the gals' super-heroine costumes, and Phoebe's mermaid tail. I'd note the reasons why none of these items would be available for display, but we eventually learn the Memorial Museum's all bullshit, all the time, so why bother?
Lisa reminds the tourists that the Glamorous Ladies slaughtered more than a thousand demons "before they themselves were vanquished." She then plants herself at the foot of the staircase and activates a holographic screen that replays the scene of the reconstituted Charmed Ones basking in the bluish white glow from the chandelier. Complete with reverse angles and differing points of view and jump cuts at the entrance of Fruma Shax, but again, bullshit museum, so whatever. The one thing worth noting is that Lisa claims this event took place "twenty-five years ago," so I'll be assuming Big Chris was sent back from 2026. Lisa drags the group through the kitchen before directing them upstairs to the attic. Trivia freaks will be thrilled to hear that, as her voice fades out, Lisa drones that the original Manor was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake, but the house was rebuilt because of its location above the Nexus. Big Chris and LesBianca remain after the others have left, nervously grasping at each other's hands while gazing impassively at the cordoned-off kitchen table. A demonic bouncer squiggles in across the room to snarl, "Move along." LesBianca surreptitiously conjures a dagger in her right hand and waits until the bouncer closes in on them to spin around and plant the thing in his chest. After the bouncer's howled his merrily blazing way to Hell, LesBianca darts over to the cellar door and twists on the knob, calling for Chris to follow her. He tosses her a frightened and wary glance before following.
Once downstairs, Big Chris collapses onto the lowest step while LesBianca magically disposes of the dagger. She peers around the gloom and announces that they should be safe in the basement until the museum has closed for the evening, after which they'll head upstairs to get the Book of Shadows. She finally notices Big Chris's glum expression and wonders what's wrong. He gently admits, "Sometimes I forget who you really are." "Hey, come here," she smooves, offering him her hand. "You mean who I used to be, before I met you." Big Gullible Chris swallows this line of crap and moves in for a clinch. Well, I never said he was smart. Just pretty. "So, what do we do now?" he asks. "Say goodbye," she whispers, unbuttoning her shirt, and bamp-chicka-bamp get-your-skanky-hands-off-my-man-you-bitch. Off comes the blouse, and no, she's not wearing a bra, so I guess witches have a genetic aversion to proper foundation garments. The two rather unconvincingly mack, and LesBianca stretches out her right arm to drop the blouse to the ground with an absurd flourish just so we can…
…cut to her employing a similar gesture to smash a small vase onto the floor of her mother's apartment in present-day San Francisco. LesBianca's pretty much ransacked the place, and now stomps over to a heretofore unmolested armoire to rifle through its contents. Carol squiggles in behind her, demanding to know who she is and what she wants. "Where's the Grimoire?" LesBianca snaps over her shoulder, still clawing through the shelves. Carol conjures a Flaming Ball Of Death, so LesBianca impatiently turns around to display her tattoo and spit, "Who do you think I am, Mother?" Carol gets all verklempt as LesBianca announces that she needs the Grimoire to get the Charmed Ones off her ass. After a bit of kvelling from Carol and a bit of sneering from LesBianca, Carol twists her wrist around, and the Grimoire flares onto a nearby endtable. LesBianca riffles through the pages in search of "the inhibition spell." She exposits that now's the point in the Glamorous Ladies' lives where they're most in danger of splitting up, and she hopes to exploit their impulses long enough to retrieve what she came to the past to collect. Carol warns that the spell's effects are brief, but LesBianca doesn't care. She finds the page she's looking for, rips it from the tiny book, and starts to take off. Carol's all, "But…but…can't I help?" LesBianca stops dead in her tracks and spins around to seethe, "Yeah. Someday, when I ask you what it feels like to kill? Don't lie to me. Don't tell me you don't feel a thing." Carol looks stricken as LesBianca squiggles out.
Manor. The Dolt applies a wet washcloth to Big Gay Chris's feverish forehead. "Hang in there, buddy," he breathes. Oh, shut the fuck up, Dolt. "Buddy"? Jesus. What a tool. The ladies enter and reveal that they've pinpointed LesBianca's current location. Piper passes the engagement ring to the Dolt so Big Chris will have something with which to remember his erstwhile fiancée after the gals vanquish her sassy ass. "Or not," Piper adds a bit snippily. Just as the Ps prepare to orb out, a shimmering bluish mojo envelops each individually. The Dolt, of course, has his back to them, and so does not notice LesBianca's wicked triple whammy. Raige immediately announces that she's moving into Castle Montanague, Phoebe asks if Raige can drop her off in Hong Kong on her way to Buttfuck's, and Piper bolts to get some from Fireman Greg. The Dolt, to his credit, instantly recognizes that they're under the influence of something diabolical, but nevertheless stands there uselessly as the gals go their separate ways. Alone again with Big Chris, the Dolt turns in time to hear Chris whimper, "What do I tell them?"
Flash to the future attic, where LesBianca's instructing Big Chris to stick to his cover story as the two edge their way into the room from the stairwell. "You sure I won't lose my powers when I go back?" he wonders. "Not with this spell," she confirms, "which is why we need [the Book]." "Just remember," she urges, "protect [The Doltine Psycho], and you protect the Charmed Ones. Keep them alive for our future." Big Chris is all, "Shyeah, no pressure there," and look at that! He manages to trod upon The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance as he crosses to LesBianca's side! What are the odds? LesBianca continues with the pep talk for a bit before crossing to the Book's stand. The Book itself is nowhere to be seen, having been replaced with a holographic replica. LesBianca passes her hand through the image, mainly because some simp on the effects team thought it would be a cool effect. Newsflash: It isn't. Way to blow a couple thousand dollars, guys. "Are you sure you can summon the real Book away from him?" LesBianca asks. "Yeah," he assures her, "but we won't have much time once it gets here. His demons will be all over us." "We won't need much time," she promises, and crosses to the far wall to chalk in the outline of a triquatra on the wood. As she drags the chalk down from the triquatra's highest point, we…
…flash back to the present, where the delirious Big Gay Chris mumbles, "Hurry, before He finds us." The Dolt paces behind him, angrily calling for Phoebe and Raige, who, of course, ignore him. Piper floats in from the kitchen in a satiny blouse, burbles some Psycho-care instructions at him, perks, "Wish me luck!" and sails out the front door to get laid. The Dolt waves his arms around in impotent frustration until the squiggle noise hits the soundtrack. "Hoo-HUH!" LesBianca grunts from off-screen, and we see her boot introduce itself to the Dolt's face. The Dolt pitches through the air to slam into the alcove on the other side of the hall. His head rams into the window seat, and he slumps into an unconscious heap on the carpet. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Slow-forward. That was a spectacular example of Dolt abuse, people. So spectacular, I might have to give this episode an A. LesBianca smirks in triumph -- as well she should -- and slinks over to Big Gay Chris. "We're going home," she announces, placing one hand on his chest before squiggling him into the commercial break.
Firehouse. The camera pans down a row of bunker coats and chainsaws before skittering over to the rig, where it leaps into the air to reveal Piper and Fireman Greg atop the truck, apparently naked under a blue blanket, engaged in a particularly noisy liplock. Blah blah foreplay-cakes until the Dolt orbs in off-screen. Piper glances over at him, shrieks, and instantly freezes Fireman Greg where he lies. Piper then jumps to her feet to scream at her ex-husband for stalking her, all the while frantically clutching the blanket around her unclothed body. The Dolt allows her to go on in this vein for far too long before he tosses a potion vial at her feet. Some sort of bluish deactivation mojo races up her body, and when she snaps out of LesBianca's spell, Piper's horrified to find herself nearly naked in the presence of Mr. Hilton Cooties and the ex. The Dolt brings her up to speed on recent events, and suggests they head off to collect Phoebe and Raige. Piper glances down at her blanket-clad body and splutters, "You need to turn around, 'cause, uh, you don't get to see anymore." The Dolt chuckles fondly and complies. Cram it, dipshit.
Castle Montanague. Raige and Slampiece Buttfuck maul each other upon the canopied bed until the Dolt orbs in with Piper to smack Raige up with some deactivation mojo. "No time to explain," Piper blurts. "We gotta get Phoebe, or we're never gonna get Chris." Piper flings a brassiere at her half-sister's head. Raige squeals all, "Hel-lo! Genetic aversion to proper foundation garments! Didn't you get the memo?"
Meanwhile, LesBianca's squiggled Big Gay Chris out of the commercial break and over to her mother's apartment, where she finishes fisting him of his powers. Once he comes to, they snipe at each other until she sullenly snatches up a piece of chalk to trace the outline of a triquatra all over her mother's wall. So much for Carol's security deposit. Big Chris reminds everyone that the spell responsible for depositing him in the present is "a one-way door" that grants its reciter the power to travel backwards in time, and nothing else. How does LesBianca intend to lug Big Chris back to 2026? "He created a new spell because of you," she snits without taking her eyes from the symbol she's drawing. "It goes both ways." So does Big Gay Chris, apparently. Thank you and goodnight! Be sure to try the salmon -- it's delicious! "I'm touched," Big Chris bitches. "You should be," LesBianca sneers before laying it on the line: The only way Big Chris gets to live is if she fists him of his powers and drags him back to the future herself. Otherwise, "He" will keep sending assassins back, and all one of those guys will have to produce is Chris's big gay corpse. "Doesn't matter," Chris snots, flipping the Cracker Jack engagement ring onto the coffee table. "There's nothing left in the future anyway." He slouches back on the couch to pout. Oh, yeah. I know that look. LesBianca glares at him silently, then clomps back to her chalk outline on the wall.
Flash to the future, where LesBianca's just finishing the chalk triquatra in the attic. She tosses the chalk to one side and announces, "It's time." Chris gets cold feet at the last minute, so LesBianca slides the cheap engagement ring off her finger and places it in the palm of his hand. "This will remind you of why we're doing this," she whispers, closing his fingers over the thing. They hug and bump foreheads. Big Chris crosses to the Book's stand, removes a slip of paper from his pocket, and recites the following:
I call upon the ancient power
To help us in this darkest hour:
Let the Book return to this place
To claim refuge in its rightful space.
As a crow caws (!?!), the Book drops from the ceiling to obliterate its holographic reproduction. Chris flips through until he lands on the proper spell, which he hastily reads aloud directly from the page:
Hear these words, hear my rhyme,
Heed the hope within my mind:
Send me back to where I'll find
What I wish in place and time.
The triquatra's outline emits rays of blue light before flaring open into a portal. Big Gay Chris tentatively approaches it, then pauses to glance back at LesBianca just as a dark demonic enforcer squiggles into the room to grab her from behind. She flips him around and knees him in the groin a couple of times before slamming her fist into the back of his head with enough force to drop him. She orders Chris to leave as the enforcer kicks her legs out from under her. They continue to tussle as Big Chris turns and enters the portal.
Flash back to the present. "You really expect me to jump through this thing like before?" Big Chris rages. LesBianca's all, "You have zero say, dollface," so Big Chris flounces across the room to make "I trusted you!" noises. LesBianca dials it down quite a bit to insist, gently, that she's not giving up on them as a couple. She simply has as little choice in the matter as he, and she hopes he'll realize that. Just as she returns her attention to the chalk triquatra, Raige orbs in with Phoebe and Piper. "Hey, future girl!" Piper shouts, taking a step forward to flip the vanquishing vial at LesBianca's head. LesBianca instantly conjures a dagger and hurls it at Piper while squiggling out. The dagger shatters the vial in mid-air, and continues in slow-motion towards Piper, who tosses out a one-handed freeze. The dagger hangs suspended for a moment before LesBianca squiggles back in, snatches it out of the air, and presses its business end against Piper's throat. "You were saying?" LesBianca ices with a slight lift of her brow. That was wicked cool, people. In fact, I'm sort of hoping they find a way to bring Marisol Nichols back after tonight's hijinks have played themselves out. As long as she keeps her skank hands off my husband, that is.
Raige steps forward, but LesBianca warns her off with, "I can kill her in half the time it takes you to even think about it." "We still have enough potion to vanquish you," Raige retorts. "Maybe," LesBianca smirks, "but then you'll really have to hope the Power of Two will do, won't you?" Raige gapes. "You'd be surprised what's in the history books," LesBianca notes, shooting Raige a disdainful side-eye. Okay, this recap is already longer than War and Fucking Peace, but I'd be remiss if I didn't address this apparent continuity error. If Raige died the day Boobarella attacked the Manor, how is her "Power of Two" quote part of the historical record? Answer: Big Gay Chris altered his original timeline the moment he orbed into the attic that day in May. LesBianca is therefore not the woman he left behind in this evening's flash-forward scenes, but rather a product of the altered timeline in which Raige survived to endure the various gross humiliations the current season has seen fit to visit upon her. What's that? You don't like that explanation? You in fact think I'm so desperate to make some sense -- any sense -- out of the crap plotline they've dumped in our laps tonight that I'll concoct any bullshit justification just to get through the evening without frantically clawing my brain out through my ear? Well, too bad. You'll just have to deal, because who's writing this recap, anyway? Also, you're banned.
Let's see, where was I? Oh, yeah: LesBianca orders them to place the remaining vanquishing vials on the floor. Big Chris shouts that if LesBianca promises to leave his mother alone, he'll willingly enter the portal. He also babbles something about not having a future to return to, should LesBianca kill Piper now. "What are you talking about?" Phoebe exasperates. "You'll see if you live long enough," LesBianca spits before slowly withdrawing the dagger from Piper's neck. She takes Big Chris by the hand and leads him towards the chalk triquatra. Piper tries to freeze the two, but the freeze doesn't take. "Um, okay," Piper splutters, "I get why she didn't freeze, but why didn't he freeze?" "Uhn-un-unless he's a-a-a," Phoebe stutters. "A witch, too?" Big Chris casually finishes before finally admitting that he's "part witch, part Whitelighter," just like Raige. Piper squints, Phoebe gapes, and Raige makes this tremendous and hysterical stink-face like she's suddenly found herself floating in one of those industrial ponds of pig shit. "You lied to us!" Raige howls. Big Chris claims he had to in order to gain their trust. Phoebe shrills something before Piper jumps all over him with, "You're just gonna leave?" "I don't have a choice," he shrugs, noting that LesBianca's completely fisted him of his powers. Piper dejectedly averts her eyes as Big Chris rather too-obviously adds, "Looks like [the Dolt's] gonna have to fix that floorboard without me." Piper lifts her eyes to search his for the meaning of that, but Chris just rolls his shoulders around again and, turning to LesBianca, says, "Let's go." She gestures with her left hand to open the portal, and the two pass through, with Big Chris gazing longingly at the family he's leaving behind.
LesBianca and Big Gay Chris emerge through the attic triquatra in the future to find themselves surrounded by a horde of "His" demonic henchmen. From the darkened depths of the attic, a male voice calls, "Welcome home, Chris." The henchdemons part to reveal the backlit form of a muscle-bound lunkhead who's sporting a long, straggly mane of hair that's desperately in need of a hot oil treatment. Mangy Jesus emerges from the shadows of the attic to glower. Chris coldly meets the glowering with a bit of his own before icily intoning, "Hello, Wyatt." DUN! Well, sort of. I mean, who didn't see that one coming? Also: Both of you boys need to cut your damn hair already. What's with that shit on your heads? And then Mangy Jesus stretched his arm into the oncoming void and said, "Let there be commercials," and there were commercials. And lo, Mangy Jesus did gaze upon the commercials and say, "For fuck's sake, would you hurry up and finish this Me-forsaken recap already? Some of Us have better things to do with Our time than sit here and plow through your tedious, incessant, senseless rambling, loser."
Present-day Manor attic. Aftermath. Phoebe flips fruitlessly through the Book for a spell that will take them into the future. "How did we do it five years ago?" Piper asks the ex. He reminds her that the ever-useless Elders were responsible for that particular jaunt across time. Wrong! Stupid Dolt. While the spells involved erased themselves after one use, the then-extant Glamorous Ladies were responsible for the trip to the future. Piper, not listening to me, instructs the now-Eldered Dolt to "make it happen." He can't, hon. See above. The Dolt wishes he could do more to help Big Gay Chris, but he just can't. "You're singing a different tune," Raige notes, only now realizing the Dolt's abandoned his Destroy Big Gay Chris At All Costs shtick from earlier in the season. "Despite all his secrets," the Dolt explains, "I still believe that he came back to protect [The Doltine Psycho], and that is enough for me to want to save him." "The question," Piper sighs, "is how." Rather fortuitously, the Dolt chooses this moment to bumble across The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance. Piper leaps to her feet to stare at the thing. The ladies bang their heads together and realize LesBianca must have transported Big Chris to the future attic, and his odd statement in Carol's apartment was really a sneaky signal for them to blah blah we get it. Just scribble down a goddamned spell and shove it into the floor already.
Future attic. Mangy Jesus strides across The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance to tower above not-so-Big Chris and the I'm-just-noticing-this-now tiny LesBianca. I have to admit that despite the hair, Mangy Jesus is kind of hot. Don't tell Chris I've got a jones for his brother, though. I'll never hear the end of it. Mangy Jesus orders the henchdemons to leave them alone. The henchdemons obediently squiggle out in groups of three, the better to save on the effects budget. "Et tu, Chris?" Mangy Jesus menaces, only He mispronounces it as "ay-two," so Mangy Jesus can now shut the fuck up. Big Chris insists he didn't travel backwards in time to betray Mangy Jesus, but rather to save Him "from whatever evil it was that turned" Him in the first place. "That's always been your problem," Mangy Jesus condescends as he stalks away from them across the room. "Stuck in the old good-versus-evil morass." "I'm so past that," He adds with a shake of his head. "It's all about power," He exposits. "That's why I keep this 'museum' intact -- to remind everyone the power from which I was born and that which I possess." "Too bad the rest of the city isn't faring as well as your little shrine here," Big Ballsy Chris snorts, advancing on him. "If anyone else tried what you tried," Mangy Jesus threatens, "I'd kill them on the spot. But you?" Mangy Jesus pauses for effect before magnanimously continuing, "I've forgiven Bianca, and I can forgive you too -- if you promise never to cross me again." Big Chris challenges him, so Mangy Jesus hoists a hand into the air and draws his fingers into claws. Big Chris clutches at his throat, gasping for air. He slowly drops to his knees, and once he reaches the floor, Mangy Jesus telekinetically bitch-slaps him across the room into a low cupboard.
Present attic. Raige scrawls something on a sheet of notebook paper. Phoebe, not getting the subtleties of time travel, hoots, "Hurry!" Raige passes the sheet to Phoebe, who rolls it into a scroll before passing it on to Piper. Once the Dolt's pried The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance from the floor, Piper tosses the scroll into the hole, and the Dolt -- also not getting the subtleties of time travel -- quickly slams the board back into place and covers it with the carpet.
Future attic. Mangy Jesus hurls Big Chris into a table, which collapses under his weight. Big Chris groans in pain as LesBianca screams, "You promised you wouldn't hurt him!" Mangy Jesus is all, "Whatever, beeyotch," so LesBianca hustles to kneel at Chris's side. Oh, wow. She's actually crying. "Please," she begs Big Chris, trying to stop him, "I didn't bring you here to die." "I know what I'm doing," he pants as Mangy Jesus creaks across The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance. Big Chris leaps to his feet and barrels towards Mangy Jesus, who pretty much sidesteps the charge, thereby flipping Big Chris into another table at the opposite end of the room. "Have you lost your mind?" Mangy Jesus seethes, gesturing with his right hand. Big Chris levitates upwards from the floor as Mangy Jesus continues, "I. Don't. Need you!" With that, Mangy Jesus conjures a Flaming Ball Of Death in his left hand and prepares to fling it at Chris, who by now is choking to death up in the rafters. LesBianca grimaces and flies into Mangy Jesus's back. Mangy Jesus howls in surprise, and Big Chris drops to the floor. "Whatever you're going to do, do it fast!" LesBianca urges, and the shot cuts to reveal that she's fisting Mangy Jesus from behind as she speaks. Chris scrambles across the floor, claws at The Conveniently Squeaky Floorboard Of Massive Contrivance, and retrieves the dusty scroll to recite the following:
Powers of the witches rise
Come to me from across the skies
Return my magic, give me back
All that was taken from the attack.
Big Chris's body flashes blue and white just as LesBianca loses her hold on Mangy Jesus. He shoves her violently, and she flies back across the attic to impale herself on a shard of the table Chris had smashed through earlier. Chris screams and TKs Mangy Jesus up through the air to vanquish a lighting fixture bolted to the ceiling. Mangy Jesus crumples face-first to the floor, dazed.
The shot shifts to focus on LesBianca's agonized face, then tracks back a bit to reveal she's got about a foot of splintered wood jutting up through her stomach. When Big Chris arrives at her side, she assumes a brave smile and cryptically asks, "Haven't we been here before?" "Maybe we will be again," he replies in kind. The hell? Whatever. She passes the Cracker Jack engagement ring back to him, urging him to finish what they started. She spots Mangy Jesus struggling to rouse Himself and orders Big Chris to hurry, and to "take the spell so [Mangy Jesus] can't send anyone else back." Big Chris races to the Book, flipping it open to the earlier spell. As he completes the first line, Mangy Jesus conjures an FBOD and launches it at Big Chris's head. Big Chris ducks long enough to dodge the thing, then continues reading. The portal opens, and Big Chris snatches up the relevant page in one hand before leaping through the triquatra in the wall. The final FBOD flung by Mangy Jesus scorches the wood when the portal snaps back shut, and…
…Big Gay Chris flies through the same spot in the wall to reenter the present-day attic. "Nice spell," he smiles, rising to his feet. "But we just put it in there, like, two seconds ago," says the Feebs, still not getting time travel. The Dolt starts to pretend he knows how it works, but the Feebs cuts him short with, "I don't want to know. I already have a little headache." To match your little brain. "You have some serious explaining to do, young man!" Piper shouts with more than a hint of motherly disapproval in her tone. "I know," Big Chris gulps, darting his eyes from one Glamorous Lady to another. "I'm sorry I lied to you, but --" " No buts," Piper interrupts. "It's about time you tell us the truth. Now." Big Chris claims he can't, not because he doesn't want to, but because there's only so much he can tell them without the future being adversely affected. His original intent in traveling back through time was to exact a "surgical strike" in defense of The Doltine Psycho. He does not mention that nothing he's done since he arrived seems to have had any meaningful effect on future events. Hmmm. "What about Bianca?" Phoebe asks. "Bianca won't be a threat to anyone anymore," Big Chris sighs after a pause. "I'm sorry," Phoebe offers. "Me too," Chris whispers. He shrugs it off to wonder if they're okay with him hanging around the Manor for another twenty-five years. The ladies defer to the Dolt, who eventually and faux-grudgingly allows, "Absolutely." Toothy smiles all around until the Dolt chides, "The time you're in trouble, you have to tell us. Trust goes both ways." Again, so does my husband, apparently, but now that his future fiancée's dead, I suppose I have nothing to worry about. Or do I? The Glamorous Ladies thoughtfully eye Big Gay Chris as he nods his head around and exits. I'm dragging him out for a haircut as soon as he gets home. That shag is beyond ridiculous at this point.
Down on the second floor, Big Gay Chris passes by the open door to the Bridal Boudoir and spots The Doltine Psycho in his product-placed playpen. A wild pack of ominous strings attacks the soundtrack as Big Chris leans against the doorframe to stare down the murderous infant. "If I can't save you," he warns as the sociopath totally ignores him, "I swear to God I'll stop you." Chris swivels out of sight as the creepy little freak turns his head to watch his younger brother disappear.
Later that evening, the ladies assemble at the dining room table for a chat. Long story short, Piper urges Raige to move into Castle Montanague and tells Phoebe to spend a couple of months in Hong Kong with Chronic to see if things work out. "We can't leave you alone," Phoebe argues. "We have to stick together." "You can't keep sacrificing your lives forever," Piper counters. "Mom did that, Grams did it, and even Prue, and look what happened to them." Um, Grams dropped dead of a heart attack because Phoebe was, and always has been, and irksome bitch, Piper, but aside from that, I suppose you have a point. "It's not a legacy I want us to inherit," she finishes. Should the separation not work out, well, they'll fall off that bridge when they get to it. In the meantime, Piper's certain she's making the right decision. First Phoebe, then Raige, grasps hold of Piper's hands, and the shot cross-fades from Piper's contemplative face to a wide-angle from far down the main hall. The camera pulls back still further as we slowly fade to black.
week: Nothing! Hooray! And the week after that? Still nothing! Whee! And then it's back to the goddamned Manor on the fourteenth for one more dose of this bullshit before we all break for the holidays. The WB can kiss my ass.