Episode Report Card Demian: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Sex And The Single Dolt
By Demian | Season 6 | Episode 16 | Aired on 02.21.2004
…now. Sort of. Piper tiredly shuts the front doors after the last of the yuppie couples have exited, and she and the Dolt yammer at the Psycho about what a good boy he was, with Piper adding that she only froze the room once during the entire party. They don't mention why Piper had to freeze the room, but I'm guessing the Psycho got into a non-verbal dispute with another of the rugrats over a chew toy and was on the verge of impaling his fellow brat with a telekinetically flung cake knife when his mother intervened. The kid's a lunatic, is all I'm saying. The Dolt deludes himself, claiming his elder son's murderous over-exuberance was due purely to the birthday party itself. Piper parries that the littlest Psycho "was excited to see you. He misses you." "I know," the Dolt breathes, gazing at the wee sociopath in his arms. "I miss him too."
Raige chooses this moment to amble in from the kitchen with an offer of more champagne. "We don't want it to go to waste," she adds. "How about it, Dad?" "Elders aren't allowed to drink," the Dolt replies, like, that didn't stop you from chugging down a couple of free Coronas at your ex-wife's bar, jackass. Shut up, Dolt. Raige persists, arguing that when the Dolt's "on Earth, [he] should do as earthlings do," but the Dolt declines once more. Piper thanks Raige for all the work she did on the party, but wonders what gives with all the champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries, and oysters on display. "Aren't the kids a little young for the aphrodisiacs?" Raige pretends -- badly -- not to have known about the supposed horny-making properties of the items Piper's just listed, babbles something stupid about how the Manor needs more kids running around underfoot so she might better understand their culinary needs, and whips around to retreat back into the kitchen. The Dolt wrinkles his nose at Piper. "She's been weird since she changed her hair color," Piper shrugs before adding after a bit of thought, "She'll probably change it back." And you know something? I totally didn't notice that Rose McGowan had dyed her hair a sort-of auburn brown until Piper let loose with that line. It's probably because I was distracted throughout that scene by Raige's hideous, yellow-and-grey tube top. Or maybe I was waiting for something of importance to happen. We're already two minutes in, guys. Get it moving already, will you?
Raige clomps into the kitchen with a stack of dirty dishes to inform Phoebe that Piper "knows [they're] up to something." Raige sets the dishes near the sink and crosses to the center island to sigh, "I can't believe how hard it is to get two people laid." "That is disgusting!" Phoebe eye-rolls, and I'm torn, because it is abhorrently disgusting as only a reference to Dolt Sex can be, but then again: Phoebe? Squeamish about matters carnal? Pull the other one. "We are trying to romance Piper and [the Dolt] together," Phoebe corrects, "so they can conceive [Big Gay] Chris, our nephew." Raige is all, "And this is different from what I said…how, exactly?" "What you said is very Springer," Phoebe flusters. "What I said is very Oprah." Raige, rather than clawing Phoebe's eyes out with her fingernails for implying she's no better than the gutter trash that appear on Springer, chooses to remain somewhat calm as she reminds Phoebe that they're running out of time. The two agree to summon the big gay one to update him on the Dolt Sex sitch. Phoebe bellows at the ceiling, and my husband presently orbs in, all, "So how's it going?" and I don't really care what the answer is, because HE FINALLY CUT HIS HAIR! Hooray! It's still a little flippy in the back there, not unlike Jack McPhee's scary mini-mullet at the beginning of the fifth season of Dawson's, but I'll not be complaining, as it's a damn sight better than the assy mess Chris has been tossing around for the last five episodes. In any event, Raige cringes and admits, "Not so good." She's talking about the prospects for his conception, not his hair. Just so we're clear on that. Big Gay Chris freaks. "It has to happen today, or I don't happen!" he panics. "Today?" Phoebe repeats with a bit of disbelief coloring her tone. Yep. Chris "did the math," and if he's not conceived by midnight, he won't be born, no one will travel to the past from 2026 to warn the Glamorous Ladies of Mangy Jesus and his reign of terror, cats will lie down with dogs, the world will end with a whimper, yada yada, doom. Chris suggests slipping the parentals a love potion. Raige immediately shoots this down, but does not explain why. Perhaps it's for the same mysterious and annoying reason she broke up with Buttfuck, but the less said about him, the better. Phoebe suggests that they simply explain the situation to Piper and the Dolt and hope the two take appropriate action. "And give them a massive case of performance anxiety," Raige snorts dismissively. The kitchen three mope for a bit until the familiar sounds of demonic hijinks reach their ears from the Manor's main hall.
Out in the foyer, Piper vanquishes a bit of the staircase's balustrade with her Hands Of Discontent, with the force of the explosion flipping a dark-haired, black-clad, crossbow-bearing Darklighter down to the landing. The Dolt darts towards the littlest Psycho as the Darklighter rises to his feet and -- what do they call this? Black orbing? I don't care, because it's not important. What is important is that this Dolt-hating Darklighter's name is Damien. Against my better judgment, I giggled for about fifteen minutes when I first learned the character's name two months ago, and the mere thought of it's been bringing a wicked grin to my face ever since. Problem is, Edoardo Ballerini looks absolutely nothing like me and does, in fact, look like a Sicilian Christian Slater, but I suppose that's neither here nor there. So, let's see: I darklight off the stairwell, landing over to the Psycho near the front doors; raise my crossbow; and fire off a shot in slow motion at the Dolt's vile and enormous gargoyle head, because I hate it so much. Also because it's a totally easy target, and this is coming from a guy who can't hit the broad side of a barn with a basketball from three feet away. Unfortunately, the Dolt orbs upwards at the last second, and the arrow passes through the cloud where his neck should have been to zip past a stunned Piper and towards an equally shocked Big Gay Chris, who has just this instant loped out of the kitchen into the dining room. Phoebe shoves my husband to the floor as Raige reverses the arrow's trajectory with her orbing telekinesis, sending it back through the hallway and into my shoulder. Because God knows I've endured far greater pain recapping this shit over the last four years, I merely grunt a little and gaze with unalloyed loathing at the Dolt as he orbs back in at my side to retrieve the Psycho from the floor. After a bit, I darklight on out of there, leaving the Manor Morons to gape at each other. The camera cuts to a shot of Big Chris on the floor behind the dining room table, and for some reason, the shot prominently features his rear end. Dude. I think Joel Feigenbaum wants to do my husband. Back off, bitch, or I'll bust an arrow in your lousy ass, too. "Thanks for saving my life," Chris tells the Feebs. "Hope it wasn't for nothing." Raige offers him a "buck up, little camper" half-smile before they all redirect their attention to the parentals and the Psycho at the far end of the hall. The Dolt and his elder son stare slack-jawed at Piper as she tosses her fabulous mane of glossy hair into the opening credits.