Once In A Blue Moon

The 197 of you who voted for Sparklies in last week's "Death Is Actually An Option" poll are banned. Just so you know.

Previously on Charmed, Kerr Smith, Kerr Smith, Sparklies, Sparklies, James Van Der Beek, James Van Der Beek, James Van Der Beek, and Whiny Dolt. Again.

Currently on Charmed, we fade up on a slow pan down the dining room table, currently laden with both various types of prepackaged junk food and Raige's elbows. Phoebe staggers in from the stairs with a hot water bottle pressed against her lower abdomen to collapse into a chair to her lippy bastard of a half-sister, wondering what the apparently hastily called family meeting's all about. Raige waves her hands around in the air without removing her elbows from the table and guesses it has something to do with the ongoing silent yet lethal war of attrition between the Psycho and Tiny Gay Chris. "Did something happen?" Phoebe gasps. "I'm sure they got kidnapped by the latest demon, or something," Raige too casually whatevers. Phoebe, clutching that hot water bottle like it's a pregnancy pad of her very own, looks stricken and very nearly sobs, "[Raige]. That is so not funny." Neither is an episode devoted to your synchronized menstrual cycles, but you don't hear me complaining. Yet. "You get so emotional when you're PMSed," Raige teases. "And you get mean," Phoebe pouts. "I do not!" Raige protests. "I'm above it all," she adds, with much renewed flapping of her hands as Piper suddenly barrels into the room from the kitchen with a bottle of wine. Piper's entrance startles Raige, who instantly orbs in place in surprise. "Riiiight," Phoebe eyebrows. "Nothing happens to you. You're above it all." Piper gets an earful of the hijinks and the sniping and looks like she's about to drain that entire bottle in one long gulp. Hey, back off, Piper. That's my job. "So I get a little jumpy," Raige sniffs. "And I get a little pissy," Piper warns, "so watch it." A little? And, what -- does this mean Piper's been PMSing for the last three seasons? Phoebe and Raige pretty much echo my sentiment before Piper eventually gets to the point. "I've been wanting to tell you guys something for a while, but I just didn't know how to say it," she begins. Phoebe bugs out her eyes and gulps, "Ohmigod, are you pregnant again?" No, Feebs. If she were pregnant again, she wouldn't be suffering from premenstrual syndrome, would she? Stupid. We're barely a minute in to the episode proper, and I can already tell this evening is going to SUCK.

Piper pretty much ignores Phoebe's idiocy to remind them of Stupid Uncle Phil's disappearance before finally admitting that the Dolt sporked the ever-useless Elder into the great beyond. But, Piper hastens to add, it wasn't the Dolt's fault, because he was tricked. "Try telling that to [Stupid Uncle Phil]," Raige snorts through a mouthful of ice cream. Piper shoots a death glare in Raige's direction, and the lightbulbs in the chandelier overhead explode. Just like that bulb did in the shower scene at the beginning of Carrie. Coincidence? Or intentional linkage of this bloody mess to that one? You decide. Phoebe and Raige shriek and cower in terror as Piper takes a moment to collect herself before storming back into the kitchen in a royal snit. "What was that?" Phoebe blares, jiggling into the kitchen after Piper with Raige close on her heels. "You blew it up without even looking at it!" Raige adds. Piper, futzing with some baby bottles, avoids their eyes while reminding them that their "emotions are tied to [their] powers," so, apparently, she's "feeling a little weird." The snottier Ps apologize for not greeting Piper's Dolt bomb with appropriate amounts of gravity and distress as Piper reminds them both of what's at stake. Should the remaining ever-useless Elders learn what the Dolt did, the consequences would be dire. Yeah, so that's why you're yammering about it at full volume in the damn kitchen, when you all know the Elders can eavesdrop anytime they feel like it. Gah. I wasn't aware premenstrual syndrome sucked eighty or ninety IQ points from a woman's brain. Then again, these morons have been so stupid for so long, I'm not sure we can blame it on the impending triple menses, can we?

The Dolt rather fortuitously orbs into the kitchen at this point, apologizing for the interruption. "I have to tell you something that you're probably not gonna like," he hesitates. "Ya kill anybody else?" Raige guesses. The Dolt wordlessly freaks while Piper and Phoebe, appalled, gape and roll their heads around. "You told them?" the Dolt hisses, wheeling on Piper. Piper counters that she had no choice in the matter, as the entire issue affects them as well. "More than you know," the Dolt mutters. "They want to assign you a new Whitelighter because of it." The ladies squint in disbelief as the Dolt explains that the ever-useless Elders remain unnerved and suspicious, and want to ensure that the Glamorous Ladies are "protected." "From what?" Raige scoffs, eyeing her pantywaist of an ex-brother-in-law. "You?" Well, that's just rude. But she's busting on the Dolt, so it's terribly amusing as well. "They're out of their minds," Piper grits. The Dolt shrugs that, rampant insanity in Whitelighterland or no, the new Whitelighter's to arrive at the Manor the following morning. "I hope I don't blow him up," Piper snorts. "Piper," the Dolt patiently counters, "you can't blow up a Whitelighter." "Why not?" Phoebe blares. "She blows you up all the time." You know, if they'd kept treating the Dolt like he was their personal punching bag because of the PMS thing, this episode wouldn't have been half as bad as it ultimately was. Piper snots something final about not needing another orbing-type invading her personal space, and punctuates this comment by detonating the toaster as she earlier did the chandelier. The Dolt's all, "Ooooo-kay, I'll be leaving now," and orbs out through the ceiling. Phoebe mists up and blinks, "That was a great toaster." Heh.

Oh, my fucking God. The shot cuts to take in the titular moon looming over a city plaza, and yes, it's actually blue. I hate this show. HATE. In an adjacent park, that smug, vertically challenged Christian Coalition asswipe from Jack & Bobby hovers cross-legged several feet above the ground, meditating as is the Whitelightery types' occasional wont, as the Dolt orbs onto the walkway in front of him. "You know," the Dolt chides, "you probably shouldn't be doing that out in the open." Oh, yeah? Well, you shouldn't be orbing into the middle of a goddamned city park, dicksmack, so shut it. Mini-Ralph Reed gets snippy while invoking the mysterious disappearance of Stupid Uncle Phil, and if he were either good-looking or in the episode for more than one scene, I'd care. He's neither, so we'll be moving this along. The Dolt tries to warn Mini-Ralph against heading over to the Manor the following morning. Mini-Ralph is snotty, dismissive, and deeply unattractive. The Dolt orbs out. The moment he's gone, nearby bushes rustle ominously. Mini-Ralph opens an eye and calls the Dolt's name. There's no response. Suddenly, a black smear of demonic beasts flies from the bushes to whack Mini-Ralph out of the air. He lands heavily on his back and is dragged almost out of the frame by his legs as the monsters snarl and growl off screen. We get a brief look at one of them before it rips open a series of gashes on Mini-Ralph's arm, and good Christ, but this effect blows goats. You see, rather than the simple grey wolves the promo promised, the episode's actual monsters are big, black, indifferently CGI'd doglike things that look exactly like the mutts of doom from Ghostbusters. This fucking show. HATE. In any event, the three hellhounds rip Mini-Ralph Reed to shreds right there in the park as his screams echo into the opening credits, and I need a cocktail, because this is going to be a very long night.

Oh, thank God. It's a wailing ovary! The opening travelogue takes us from midnight through sunrise -- incorporating that assy titular blue moon, of course -- as some shrike caterwauls, "Come to me so I can digest you." A little too literal for my taste, but hey. The dearth of travelogue ovaries was beginning to unsettle me. Besides, they're always a good way to waste a minute or so of screentime, which is why travelogue ovaries are the recapper's friend. We eventually land on Prescott Street, where the hormonally addled Piper's managed to burn yet another tray of muffins. The smoke alarm in the kitchen beeps incessantly as she races in from the dining room to yank the blackened bakery treats from the oven while the Dolt wobbles around uselessly in the background. She howls at him to turn off the alarm, and when he doesn't move quickly enough for her tastes, she unleashes her Hands of Discontent to demolish the thing in a spray of white sparks. Heh. Phoebe and Raige amble in to join Piper in griping about their periods for a bit before the Dolt wonders what the hell could be keeping Mini-Ralph Reed. Raige attempts to snark something about Danger Dolt and his lately discovered talent for frightening the forces of good, but he orbs out in search of Mini-Ralph before Raige really lands a relevant insult. Phoebe, annoyed that the topic of conversation has strayed so far from her favorite subject, refocuses her sisters' attention upon herself, wondering if they had dreams as "weird" as hers were last night. Not really, Raige and Piper reply, allowing Phoebe to continue that hers were "violent and painful," and if we couldn't have already guessed that PMS plus a rare blue moon equals three transmogrified Glamorous Ladies, we certainly should have been able to do so as a result of that little revelation. Raige kick-starts her subplot by inviting Phoebe to tag along as she heads over to noted heterosexual Kerr Smith's apartment for a stakeout. Piper, for some asinine reason, believes he might just be demonic, and would appreciate confirmation of his true status, like, yesterday, thank you very much. Phoebe begs off, citing Sparklies issues. Raige derides this excuse, as Sparklies is heading to Los Angeles in two days and should therefore have absolutely zero issues attached to him. Just then, Tiny Gay Chris begins crying elsewhere in the Manor, so Piper hustles off to ensure that the Psycho hasn't telekinetically pinned the hapless infant to the wall with a meat cleaver, promising to discuss the possibility of the Dolt moving back into the house when she returns. Phoebe and Raige gawp mutely at each other, all, "Great. Two sociopaths under the same roof."

Not!warts Not-So-Great Hall. The Dolt orbs in to find Elder Q supervising a trio of his colleagues as they apply the healing tingly touch to a still-gouged Mini-Ralph Reed. Elder Q gets all up in the Dolt's face about Mini-Ralph's injuries, the implication being, of course, that the Dolt himself is responsible for them, and that makes absolutely no sense at all, because the Dolt would have just sporked the guy rather than clawing at him, but whatever. Elders are stupid. Even, depressingly, Q. And another thing -- Mini-Ralph is conscious enough to inform these dipwads that he was attacked by three indifferently CGI'd doglike things, so again, WHATEVER. I so totally don't care about any of this. Is Big Gay Chris ever coming back?

Oh, and look at that. Speaking of Chris, we've zipped back to the Manor, where Piper's just yanked the Psycho-driven cleaver from her younger, feyer son's stomach, stitched up the gaping wound, and put poor Tiny Gay Chris down for a nap. Phoebe and Raige skitter into the upper hall from the stairs to make this huge, hairy deal about the Dolt moving back into the house, what with his fragile emotional state and those frequent visits from James Van Der Beek and everything, but Piper -- surprise, surprise -- isn't having it, and clomps back downstairs. As Phoebe and Raige gallop after her, Phoebe attempts to argue that while they all know the Dolt couldn't possibly harm the resident infants, whatever's after him might, and does Piper really want to place her perpetually imperiled offspring in even more danger? "Look," Piper grits, grinding to a halt in the foyer, "I just want my family back. Isn't that enough?" On that last word, the large vase on the much-abused marble-topped entrance table explodes. Raige, startled, orbs in place as Phoebe tenses every muscle in her neck and inhales sharply. "What is going on with our powers lately?" Phoebe grumbles. "I don't know," Piper sighs, "but it's getting awfully expensive." Um. Excuse me, ladies? Wouldn't this have come up long before now? I mean, two of you have been witches for six years already, and I'm assuming you've menstruated at least once before today. Granted, it's probably been a while for the Feebs, what with that starvation diet she's been on since 2001, but nevertheless, why is this suddenly an issue now? Whatever. This show sucks, and this particular episode is excruciatingly pointless and dull, so fuck it.

The Dolt orbs in to express his general perplexity over the same situation that has me banging my head against the wall, but it matters not to the Feebs, who drifts out the front door to deal with her ongoing Sparklies issues. Once she's left, the Dolt fills the remaining Ps in on the whole Mini-Ralph Reed situation. Piper, upon learning the ever-useless Elders suspect the Dolt in the attack, becomes instantly belligerent and wonders if the Elders might intentionally be setting the Dolt up for a fall. The Dolt shrugs off her suspicions in favor of one of his own. As Mini-Ralph was to begin his new duties as their "guide" that morning, the Dolt figures a dark demonic force hostile to the Glamorous Ladies is likely involved. Raige offers to abuse the Book of Shadows in search of likely suspects, but Piper orders her over to Kerr Smith's apartment to confirm that the prominent heterosexual is not involved. Raige nods and exits as the Dolt apologizes for fucking up his ex-wife's life again, some more. Piper whatevers and leads him up towards the nonexistent attic for a little Book abuse.

Over in the nonexistent attic, Piper's round of Book abuse has proven worthless. She and the ex bang their heads together for a bit before she peremptorily decides that their best plan of action involves setting a Mystical Crystical trap for the mauling beasties within the Manor itself, using another Whitelighter as bait. The Dolt objects, but Piper reminds him that "this could exonerate" the Dolt not only for the Mini-Ralph attack, but also for Stupid Uncle Phil's disappearance. Because the Elders are obtuse enough to believe the same entity perpetrated both crimes. What the fuck ever. Piper exits to prepare the infants for another trip to Not!warts. The second she's left the room, James Van Der Beek materializes to smack the Dolt in the face with some of that horrendous breath of his as he floats through the nonexistent room, crooning, "You can't be saved -- you're a danger to them all!" Thanks for that, Beek. The Dolt hacks and gags, because James Van Der Beek is in dire need of some Listerine.

We cut to a glamour shot of the Manor faade as late afternoon melts quickly into night. Back in the nonexistent attic, Raige finishes a potion with a flourish of hands and smoke as Phoebe snarks something about burning down the house. The camera swings around to take in the bit of Whitelighter bait -- actually a delightfully impatient and sarcastic twentysomething who's none too pleased to find himself dependent upon these two nimrods for his safety -- and the three snipe at each other for a bit before Phoebe confirms that the Dolt's at Not!warts to provide himself with an alibi should the marauding beasties actually attack that evening. Piper enters to discover if Raige has tested Kerr Smith's blood yet and, upon learning he's human, announces, "Well, that officially makes him tomorrow's problem." There's some more acid-toned commentary from The Bait before Phoebe casually mentions that tonight's the second night of the blue moon. Raige conveniently remembers reading something about blue moons in the Book of Shadows, and exposits that two blue moons in one year only happens twice in a century, and that's not really true at all, but neither is that error particularly important, for Piper's barely able to sigh, "That doesn't bode well," before the ludicrously tinted beams from the phenomenon in question pour through the windows to bathe them all in an insulting glow. Raige edges towards the glass, and her supposed point-of-view of the moonrise places the Manor across Alamo Square from Postcard Row, so I guess they've decided to relocate the house -- again -- for this season. "Pretty!" Raige breathes at the sight before morphing into one of those indifferently CGI'd dog thingies, followed quickly by Piper and Phoebe, and I find myself wondering how on earth things like denim jeans, chiffon tops, leather pumps and, oh, say, saline implants could possibly morph into fur and whatnot, like, the first time one of them turned into a big, hairy mutt, she had the good sense to shred her clothing in the process and found herself mortifyingly naked when the transformation was reversed. But then, I never need to see Phoebe in the nude again, ever, so forget I said anything about that. Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah: This stupid scene. So, the crappy CGI dogs advance upon The Bait, who attempts to orb out. Unfortunately for him, two of the dog thingies yank him out of his orb cloud to shred him on the carpet. Unfortunately for me, that brought to mind the Dolt yanking poor Big Gay Chris out of his own orb cloud all those many months ago, thereby inadvertently reminding me of a time when I actually cared a little bit about what happens on this assy program. Sigh. So. Long story short? Whatever to this scene. The Bait eventually kicks the crappy CGI dogs into the Mystical Crystical circle, which he barely manages to close before dropping back to the floor in a daze. The crappy CGI dogs attempt to leap through the barrier, but the sparking force field instead knocks them, unconscious, into the commercial break.

The morning, the three Ps awaken to find themselves trapped in the Crystical cage with The Bait oozing a puddle of blood onto the carpet, which, by the way, doesn't make any sense, because Whitelighters automatically self-heal from any injury that is not a Darklighter's arrow, but whatever, because who cares about this stupid episode, anyway? Raige refuses to believe they're responsible, and tries to power through the invisible force field, which of course flares up to dump her back on her ass. "So, what does this mean?" she snaps. "We're demons?" "No," we didn't turn into demons," Piper pffts. "We turned into monsters," Phoebe adds, and there's no way they'd know that, is there? Oh, fuck it. They wonder briefly if the transformation is related to their synchronized periods arriving at the same time there's a rare second blue moon in one year -- like, duh -- before Piper orders Raige to knock one of the Crysticals out of formation with her orbing telekinesis. Which should not work at all, because if it did, then Even Gayer Big Chris would have done the same to escape with the Pinhead in last year's season finale, and I really need to stop pointing out each and every example of lapsed or failed continuity in this episode, because if I don't, I'm never going to finish this damn recap, and now I've lost my goddamned place again. What the fuck was happening? Oh, yeah. Raige was breaking the Crystical circle, even though she shouldn't be able to do that, and the three rise to muddle their collective way through a plan. Basically, they're going to lie about their involvement in the Whitelighter attacks until they figure out what's going on. Raige steps over to The Bait's prone and unconscious form and orbs out with him to Not!warts for the healing he shouldn't need because his Whitelightery self should have already done it for him. Phoebe, naturally, bails due to Sparklies issues. Piper howls for an instant at this, but eventually just gives up, because she's well aware by now that trying to get stupid Phoebe to place a family crisis before her personal life is an exercise in futility.

All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me. Goodbye, Sparklies. No, GOODBYE, Sparklies. NOW. Phoebe regains sole control of her office, and Professional Boyband Fucktard Nick Fucking Lachey is outta here, permanently. Please let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, you obnoxious waste of time.

Not!warts, and this is just pathetic, and not only because of the eye-searing, zigzagged pink-and-black halter Piper's sporting that's optically knocking her boobs out of whack. Nope, in addition to that, Piper once more puts her fragile heart on the line by formally inviting the Dolt to move back into the Bridal Boudoir, and what does he do? He dumps her. Again. Some more. This time, he's claiming it's for her security, as well as for the security of his hideously neglected sons, because he's "vulnerable" to The Gathering Storm, but really. It's another excuse in a long, long line of them, and she should just kiss that massive ass of his goodbye for good. He's just not that into you, honey! Piper, never one to listen to sane advice when it comes to matters of the Dolt, simply looks weary and wrecked as the Dolt orbs out, leaving her alone in the Not-So-Great Hall as the camera pans backwards and up to the ceiling before fading, finally, to black. Someone needs to conjure herself a certain hot-assed Mexican, posthaste.

week, a rerun of "Witch Wars" from last season, followed by a new episode on Halloween the following Sunday. I'd be a total loser if I tuned in to the rerun just because of Big Gay Chris, right? Right. Watch me do it anyway. Sigh.