Previously onCharmed, Jolly Green Van Der Beek went Dolt diving, and I'm Not Candy showed The Blockheaded One some cunning new minimalist decorating schemes for the Manor. Meanwhile, Li'l Bulging Brody knew what evil lurks in the hearts of men as Piper took a tuning fork in the spleen. The Dolt then became an Avatar and got all furtive and shifty-eyed at P3 while sipping on a gin and tonic.
Currently on Charmed, a bespectacled and black-gowned Ann Cusack stands in the middle of the Not!warts Not-So-Great Hall, flipping through a pile of library books while a midget in a red conical hat calls out various objections to said books' content. Lord of the Rings? "Historically inaccurate." Harry Potter? "Filled with juvenile delinquents." The Wizard of Oz? "Disparaging to little people. Munchkins being persecuted." Munchkins being persecuted? What about the damn audience, you pint-sized git? Incidentally, the midget's got a glass eye that seems always to be staring straight through the camera directly at me, and it's freaking me the fuck out. Raige, who'd been following the argument from her perch on a sofa at the far end of the room, impatiently slams some paperwork down on the coffee table and storms over to upbraid the midget for his asinine attempts at literary criticism. "It's the same story with all the books," Ann indignantly exposits. "None of them deserve to be banned!" The pugnacious peewee blathers something about Lady Godiva that has absolutely nothing to do with the issue at hand, and Ann Cusack and I roll our eyes around before Ann starts ranting about the dwarf stifling freedom of speech, and now I roll my eyes around alone, because how much stifling of speech can the weeny one really accomplish from all the way down there on the floor? Wee Willie Wall-Eyes flings a little mojo at Ann's mouth that seals her lips shut, and I quickly stand corrected. Fucking magic. Raige instantly orders him to reverse the spell, and once her mouth is back in working order, Ann rages, "Why, you little worm!" This, of course, elicits charges of sizeism from Wee Willie Wall-Eyes, and would somebody wake me up when he's dead?
Raige steps between the two and asks for a moment alone with the freaky-looking shrimp. Once Ann has wandered away, she argues that none of the books he proposes to ban are dangerous, including a small hardback entitled Crossed, Double-Crossed that she rather conveniently hoists from the top of the pile. The retro cover design features the black shadow of fedoraed, gun-toting gent splashed against a red background, with the yellow title arched across the top. "This doesn't even look magical," she squinches as Wee Willie Wall-Eyes announces that he's certain it's disgustingly violent and unsuitable for children and Will No One Think Of The Children? and wah, despite the fact that he's never read it. This revelation sets Raige off, and she peeves something about the troll banning things he hasn't bothered to examine beforehand and Censorship! and First Amendment Rights! and Freedom Of Thought! and seriously, would somebody shoot the little fucker already? Because this is getting boring. And ludicrous, especially when Raige concludes her argument in defense of the novel with "The thirties were a fabulous era -- drama, passion, intrigue!" Also: Breadlines, Nazis, and Shirley Temple. Shut up, Raige. Wee Willie Wall-Eyes side-eyes the boss like the latter's finally lost what little had remained of her scattered mind.
Fortunately, the Dolt arrives at this moment to interrupt the proceedings, and if there's one thing I absolutely hate above all else about this show, it's being grateful to the Dolt for anything. Before Raige crosses to join the erstwhile brother-in-law, she chides Wee Willie Wall-Eyes thusly: "Professor, the time you attempt to ban books, how 'bout you attempt reading some?" Raige, the time you attempt to reprimand a professor, why don't you employ proper usage? Dimwit. With that, Raige clatters away in her heels, leaving the wonky-eyed midget to stroke his beard thoughtfully while yanking Crossed, Double-Crossed from the top of the library pile. He flips it open to an entirely random page and begins to scan the text. Don't quote me on this, but I think he's doing it with his glass eye. I hate this show. In any event, the book almost immediately glows white and emits a cloud of mojo that envelops the midget, who promptly vanishes into the pages. Having so devoured Wee Willie Wall-Eyes, the book drops to the floor and snaps shut of its own accord. The camera pans down slowly towards the cover, so the audience gets a chance to note that it was written by "The Mullen Brothers."
Back in Snidely's old office, the Dolt asks Raige to babysit that evening. Raige's Moustache is all, "In your sun-damaged dreams, you wrinkly motherfucker." But the Dolt's about to ask Piper out on a date! A real one! With flowers and everything! He's even getting tips from Phoebe! Oh, that should work out well for him. Raige's Moustache tries to tell him to cram it, but the Dolt just spouts, "Thanks! You're the best!" and orbs on out of there. Okay, that was sort of amusing, but only because we've never seen the Dolt behave in so selfish a manner before. Raige prepares to ramp up her bitch when she's suddenly interrupted by a horrified shriek from the Not-So-Great Hall.
"What is it?" she asks as she crosses to join the speechlessly appalled Ann Cusack at the center of the room. Raige follows Ann's gaze to find Wee Willie Wall-Eyes dead on the floor, with what appear to be half a dozen bullet holes in his chest. Hooray! "What happened?" Raige gasps. Ann honestly hasn't a clue. The pocket-sized and long-overdue corpse finds itself momentarily obliterated by the opening credits.
Raige passes a box of Kleenex to the sniffling Ann as she joins the shattered librarian on a small sofa to process through recent events. Raige, frankly, is dumbfounded, for it's impossible to die at Not!warts. What. EVER! GOD, I hate this show. "Well, it did happen before," Ann confides, though she's thinking neither of the late, unlamented Head On A Nerd nor of the late and equally unlamented Rotten Scott Farkus. "About twenty years ago, there were two students -- brothers," she reveals through intermittent tears. "One of them killed the other. Maybe it's him?" Raige furrows her brow at this as the Fun Bags blast through the door behind them, their support system hooting, "All right, let's make this fast! I got a city of lonely people, and I'm playing Cupid!" Shut UP, Phoebe! The Feebs, by the way, has slung her Bags into a rather tasteful lilac-colored bodice piece with concealing swaths of complementary, ruched chiffon tacked on to form the yoke and the long sleeves, but alas! The low-rise pants have returned, and The Cooter Tat rears its gaping, bottomless maw, unleashed at last for the first time this season upon a wretched and undeserving world. O woe! O darkest, darkest woe!
"Miss Donovan!" Phoebe bellows above the desperate wails and gnashings of many millions across North America. "Why are you crying?" Ann Cusack blubbers incoherently while gouging out her eyes with a rusty melon baller as Raige averts her own to begin, "It's one of our teachers..." Phoebe, in full Phoebe The Amazing Dipshit mode, leaps to conclusions and commiserates, "Oh, did he break your heart? Well, you called the right person -- I can handle this." "No!" Raige splutters, but Phoebe hisses at her for silence with an upraised finger. "Cupid works alone," Phoebe solemnly intones. Raige gapes. Ann would be goggling at the moment as well, but her eyes are now mangled lumps of oozing flesh in her lap. Okay, not really, but seriously. ENOUGH WITH THE GODDAMNED HOO-HOO FAIRY ALREADY. Phoebe kneels before Ann and launches into a dizzy little matchmaking spiel that would be incredibly irritating were it not for Ann Cusack's rather amusing and wordless reactions to the inappropriateness of it all. This goes on for about a minute until Raige finally blares, "He didn't break her heart, he was MURDERED!" "Oh!" Phoebe bites as Ann dissolves into a fresh round of whimpering, ad-libbing a mewling, "It was horrible!" into her hankie as Phoebe and Raige rise to bicker. Raige eventually informs Ann that no one can leave the school until Wee Willie Wall-Eyes's killer has been identified. "I didn't kill him," Ann incredulously protests, instantly dropping the weepy mourning shtick. Heh. Raige shrugs and arranges a circle of Mystical Crysticals around the school librarian with her orbing telekinesis anyway. Raige then gingerly pokes at the invisible force field, activating it briefly to confirm that Ann's trapped inside before exiting for a private chat with the Feebs. Ann Cusack gawps.
"So, whaddya think, Nancy Drew?" Phoebe asks as the two amble into the Not-So-Great Hall. "Lover's quarrel?" "Hardly," Raige sniffs. "She hated him. Everybody did. That means the entire school is suspect." As they reach the corpse, Phoebe stammers, "W-w-wait -- a gnome was shot?" "That seems awfully human, doesn't it?" she wonders, glancing at Raige, and I have to say, it's a shame about those pants, because aside from them, she's looking pretty good tonight. "Yeah," Raige confirms. "I'd say we're definitely out of our league," she continues. "We don't do bullets. We need to call the police." She's already tried Detective Doormat, but he hung up on her immediately. Raige's plan B? The strapping heterosexual, of course. Phoebe's shocked and appalled. Raige intends to bring Li'l Bulging Brody to Not!warts? Raige counters that, if they don't solve this crime before the ever-useless Elders find out about it, there won't be a Not!warts to worry about. And this would be a tragedy...how, exactly? The two ignore my perfectly reasonable question to snipe at each other regarding Li'l Bulging Brody's credentials -- again, some more -- before Raige finally insists, "I trust him, and I need him to do the C.S.I. part of this, so could you please get Piper, check the Book, and do the magical part?" "What about the whole date I planned for Piper?" Phoebe moans before rambling on and on about roses and moonlight and romance and whatnot until Raige impatiently waves a hand in the air and shouts, "Home!" Phoebe, still babbling, dissolves into a cloud of orbs that vanishes up towards the ceiling. Hee! HA! Way to shut that self-centered hag right the fuck up, Raige. Though I have to ask, if you've been able to do that all along, why have you waited until now? Raige grunts and leans wearily against a stack of books, rubbing her temple.
P3. A decidedly non-glam Piper polishes glasses behind the deserted bar. Suddenly, the champagne flute she's holding morphs into a long-stemmed red rose, with, of course, the appropriate sound effects. Her eyes widen in surprise as about twenty cut-glass vases then rapidly materialize in a row on the bar, each filled with a dozen roses. "All right!" she calls out, wigged. "What's going on?" "Do you like them?" the Dolt calls from the top of the stairs, where he's suddenly appeared with yet another long-stemmed rose clutched in his mitt. It's called overkill, Dolt. Dial it down a couple of notches the time, okay? Kisses. "What if somebody saw this?" Piper scolds. "I sensed there's nobody here," he shrugs affably as he lopes down towards the bar. "Nobody except the most beautiful woman in the world." The three eight-year-old girls who still care about this damned, doomed relationship squeal in delight. Piper bursts into giggles and scoffs, "Have you been on top of the bridge again? 'Cause I'm telling you, there is not enough oxygen up there." Snerk. More Dolt-directed insults, please! Shit. I never get what I want. Long story short, the Dolt would appreciate a fresh start, but Piper's quite reasonably gun-shy, given the fact that he's dumped her, oh, eight or nine times in the last two years. Of course, she lets him down a bit more easily than I would with "I've spent months trying to keep you from falling into this psychotic abyss, and now that you're fine, I just can't flip a switch and be all lovey-dovey. It doesn't work that way." The Dolt pouts. Cram it sideways, meathead. Piper's cell rings. It's Phoebe, summoning her back to the Manor. There's a fun little bit where, although we can't hear the question, Phoebe clearly asks about the roses. Piper's all, "What?" before glancing around the bar and growling, "They're beautiful. Now stay out of it." Heh. Piper grabs her bag to leave, but pauses long enough to assure the Dolt she's interested. She "just need[s] some time." The Dolt sulks some more as she blows past him to exit the bar.
I'm Not Candy swiftly and silently materializes with the female Avatar from a few episodes ago for a little pep talk, and it's boring and pointless, so I'm going to take this time to give her an obnoxious nickname based on one of the unfortunate roles this actress accepted in the past. While "End Table Ass" is most tempting, we'll be going with Uniqua, mainly because I hate David E. Kelley almost as much as I hate this show and believe that anyone associated with him, no matter how tangentially, should suffer accordingly. Anywho, Uniqua counsels patience in matters of Dolt heart, encouraging him instead to "embrace [his] new life" while "help[ing] the sisters into the fold." So the Avatars intend to convert the Glamorous Ladies as well? Yeah, that's gonna happen. Not. By the way, the Dolt, in addition to inheriting Cole's old plotline, seems to have acquired his old wardrobe as well. That's a pretty damn spiffy grey jacket he's sporting in this scene.
Straight Estates. A bleary-eyed Kerr invites Raige into his lair, which he evidently hasn't bothered to clean in a while. She confirms that he's become a bit obsessed with the Avatars since learning of their existence a couple of weeks ago, and too casually suggests that he join her for a bit of fresh air. Li'l Bulging Brody collapses onto the sofa, begging off in favor of more research. "I think I should, uh," he begins. "I think you should come with me," she interrupts, "and focus on something equally mysterious." "Like what?" he snorts. "A murder mystery," she leads, before admitting that she desperately needs his help in solving Wee Willie Wall-Eyes's murder. "You know I didn't come here for that," he reminds her. Raige dangles the possibility of visiting Not!warts in front of him. Kerr looks intrigued.
Manor. Up in the nonexistent attic, Piper enters to find Phoebe already abusing the Book of Shadows. "Talk to me," Piper demands. Phoebe, misinterpreting, babbles that the flowers were the Dolt's idea; she simply encouraged him to procure a lot of them. "I was talking about the gnome, not the husband," Piper corrects, and how anyone can tell the difference is beyond me. Kidding. The Dolt's at least a foot taller. In any event, gnomes, according to the Book, have no "natural enemies," but "as a species, they tend to piss people off." "But you said he was shot," Piper frets. "Who would shoot a gnome? And why is the G silent?" That's a stupid, stupid line, Piper. Which means it should have been Phoebe's. The two blither about the imperiled safety of Not!warts for a bit before shifting the topic back over to the Dolt, whom Phoebe claims is simply "trying to reconnect." Piper's aware of that, and she'd like to do the same, but... "Your guard's up?" Phoebe offers. "Yeah," Piper admits, "and..." "You want to lower it, but you just can't?" Phoebe guesses. Piper, growing irritated, shoots Phoebe A Look before continuing, "And still I..." "Feel vulnerable," Phoebe finishes for her, "and you don't want to get hurt again." Piper collects what remains of her shredded patience and, holding it carefully in both hands so she doesn't deploy said Hands to blow Phoebe the fuck up, ices, "Could I possibly have a chance to express my feelings?" Phoebe's all, "Whatever," and I'd scream at her for that, but to be honest with you? She pretty much expressed my own opinion on the matter in those three little syllables, so I don't have much room to criticize. Piper admits that the Dolt's totally changed and everything's been just great, but she can't shake the feeling that "it's all too good to be true." She smiles a bit sadly and adds, "But then, I can't just shut up and be happy, can I?" Phoebe offers her an affectionate smile, and for God's sake, can we get back to the main storyline already?
Thank you! Raige orbs into Not!warts with Li'l Bulging Brody, who's toting some sort of portable forensics kit. Ann Cusack leaps from the sofa upon which she's been imprisoned to peeve, "Well, it's about time!" Raige apologizes and makes to introduce Kerr, who interrupts her to step forward and offer his hand in greeting. Needless to say, his fingers hit the invisible force field, which instantly flares up to hurl him backwards into the hallway on his ass, where he skids across the floor to slam his head into a decorative pillar, and there's this completely gratuitous low-angle shot of Kerr Smith groaning and rubbing the back of his head with his legs splayed open directly at the camera. He's got to be stuffing socks down the front of his jeans. Preening, testosterone-addled douchebag. And yes, I'd still do him anyway. Shut up. Raige winces in sympathetic pain and apologizes profusely as Kerr drags himself to his feet, grumbling, "So, what is she? A demon, a warlock, what?" "No," Ann chimes, "I'm a librarian." My sister the librarian would like to interject that she works with plenty of demonically inclined ALA-certified book wenches, and so warns you all not to take Ann's claim at face value. I'd like to interject that this is my damn recap, and that my sister the librarian needs to do less of the yapping and more of the shutting up. "[Ann's also] a suspect," Raige adds, "unless you say otherwise." Raige kneels to remove one of the Crysticals from formation, breaking the force field. A frowny Li'l Bulging Brody tests this by gingerly poking a book through the air. Ann squints at him, all, "Dumbass. If the force field were still active, you'd be flat on your derriere again right about now." Or maybe I'm projecting a little bit. Having confirmed the force field's absence, Kerr opens his little forensics kit and pulls on a pair of latex gloves to swab Ann's hands for a paraffin test. While he is thus occupied, Ann asides to Raige, "I'm telling you, it had to be the Mullen boy." Raige is all, "Who?" "Eddie Mullen," Ann explains. " I remembered his name now. The kid who shot his brother twenty years ago?" "Oooo-kay," Raige eyebrows, "but how and why would this person come back?" Ann hasn't a clue. Meanwhile, Kerr's determined that Ann did not, in fact, discharge a weapon in the last few hours. How he's managed to do that simply by sniffing the end of a dirty Q-tip, I'll never know, but whatever. Ann, thus cleared, now has a new task: To gather as much information as she can on the Brothers Mullen while keeping it all vewy vewy qwiet, as Raige is still worried about the Elders finding out. Ann cheerily accepts her assignment and breezes past Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody. Kerr sidles over to Raige to ask, "So, where's the body?"
Cut to Raige leading him into the Not-So-Great Hall, where the corpse of Wee Willie Wall-Eyes still sprawls on the floor. "What is he?" Kerr wonders. Upon learning the corpse is of the gnomish variety, Kerr snorts, "Great, so now you're going to tell me that leprechauns and fairies exist, too?" Oh, you are just begging for a beating, aren't you? Li'l Bulging Brody hovers over Wee Willie Wall-Eyes and quickly determines that the body was moved, as there's no blood spatter on the floor. He then retrieves Crossed, Double-Crossed from the corpse's side and returns to Raige as he notes authors' names on the cover. "The Mullen Brothers?" Raige repeats quizzically, not quite grasping the connection yet, because she's a moron. Kerr flips through the mostly empty pages as Raige leans in over his arm to realize, "It's not finished." Kerr lands on the last page of text, which faces a hastily inked illustration of a Packard-crammed city street, just as The Seductive Saxophone Of This Should Totally Suck arrives on the soundtrack. "'The streets were quiet after Shorty died,'" Kerr reads in a mocking tone. "'Too quiet,'" he finishes, snickering a bit to himself. "'Shorty'?" Raige repeats, blinking, her eyes darting over to the tiny corpse nearby. She gasps as she grasps what likely happened and barks, "Close the book!" Kerr's all, "What? Why?" as the pages in his hands glow white. The cloud of mojo erupts from the novel to envelop both Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody, who promptly vanish into the book, which then drops to the floor and snaps shut as the intense whirling noises whisk us down into...
...Crossed, Double-Crossed itself. The mojo cloud spins onto the pavement from above to deposit Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody in the middle of a black-and-white, tenement-lined streetscape. The camera tilts about ten disorienting degrees to the left as Li'l Bulging Brody blurts, "What happened? Where are we?" Off-screen, a car horn blares. Kerr wraps his arms around Raige's waist and yanks her over to the curb as a taxi speeds by. Once she catches her breath, Raige quickly groks to the fact that they've been sucked into the book, much as Wee Willie Wall-Eyes must have been. Kerr splutters his disbelief as Raige too casually flaps her hands around all, "Yeah, whatever. This happens all the time." "But," she amends, arching a wondering brow, "never in black and white." Kerr pulls an amusing double-take as he suddenly realizes that, yeah, there's no color. Heh. Just then, two gun-toting mooks appear behind them, the lead mook sneering, "Well, well. A couple of newcomers." "You've got to be kidding me," Kerr groans. "You pals of Shorty's?" the lead mook barks. Raige quickly flips into gun moll mode and snots, "Maybe we are. What's it to ya?" "Don't get wise with me, Legs," the leads mook snarls. Raige examines her jeans. Snerk. The lead mook babbles something about "the falcon" that supposedly belongs to "Johnny," before Kerr butts in with, "I think you got us confused with somebody else." The lead mook shakes his head and snorts, "I don't think so." Taking this as their cue, his henchmen haul out tommy guns to start blasting, but Kerr whips out his automatic first. The mooks dive behind a nearby sedan as Kerr screams at Raige to orb them out of there. Raige can't, of course, because her powers don't work in this fictional world, so the two dart off down the street as things get really, really, really loud with horns blaring and machine guns roaring and drums pounding and WOULD YOU ALL SHUT THE HELL UP, PLEASE? Kerr and Raige skitter around the corner as cantaloupes explode on a fruit stand caught in the crossfire. The shot cuts back to the henchthugs, still blasting away, as the camera lens irises closed to pinch us into the commercial break.
Back from the break, we fade up to peer through the window of a storefront called "Bogey's Apparel" -- like, Christ in Heaven, but even when this show coughs up an embarrassingly entertaining episode, it still sucks ass. Kerr tucks a white shirt into a pair of period-appropriate pants before spinning around to adjust his tie in a mirror as he calls out, "You turned me into a felon, you know that, right?" "Breaking and entering, vandalism, theft," he enumerates, as the camera ducks inside the shop, and that's some nice work on the set decoration, guys. No, I mean it. They must have transferred the entire contents of a vintage clothing store onto the set for this scene. From behind a backlit screen, Raige scoffs, "It's a fictional store in a fictional world. I doubt we're breaking any laws." Kerr's Brylcreemed his hair, and now futzes with his suspenders as he counters, "It may be a fictional world, but those bullets seemed pretty damn real to me." He straps himself into his shoulder holster as Raige natters on about "blending in before those goons come to get us again." Because he is a raging heterosexual, he tries to catch a glimpse of her as she discards her street clothes and reaches for a dress. "Are you peeking?" she chides. "Nope!" he lies, before getting a little grin on his face and asking, "Are you?" Raige mugs briefly before vanishing behind the screen again to continue dressing as they muddle their collective way through the current situation. Raige correctly assumes that the novel "expelled" Wee Willie Wall-Eyes after he was killed, and guesses the same thing happened to the murdered Mullen brother twenty years ago. If that's the case, Kerr wonders, what happened to the other Mullen? Raige supposes he might still be in the book. Grabbing a phone directory from under the store's counter, Kerr proposes they locate the missing Mullen immediately, reasoning that as the kid wrote the book, the kid will therefore know how to escape it. Raige ehhhs that maybe? Not so much. After all, if Missing Mullen knows how to get out, why would he have remained there for two decades. Oooh! Oooh! I know! It's because he has Issues, right? Am I right? I am so right, aren't I?
Kerr starts to babble something unimportant as Raige emerges from behind the screen. The camera pans from her ankle-strapped pumps up past her bare gams to take in the supposedly glamorous gown she's selected for this evening's festivities, and I gotta say this: Meh. We know she can work the bias-cut like nobody's business, but unfortunately, they decided to go with some pale crepe sleeveless thing with a badly tailored, beaded bodice that makes her look, well, dumpy. Kerr, however, is as gobsmacked as the script requires him to be at her appearance, and stammers to a halt before offering, "Wow. You look great." Rose McGowan strikes a pose and mock-seductively croons, promo-style, "Do I look like Lana Turner?" In the sense that both you and she are wretchedly bad actresses? Then, why yes, Rose, your resemblance to Lana Turner is remarkable. Otherwise? NO, you do NOT, because Lana Turner was BLONDE and Lana Turner wore BRAS. Kerr, of course, begs to differ with me, grinning, "Right out of The Postman Always Rings Twice." He considers this for a moment, then modifies that statement with, "The good version," like any pea-brain in this show's target audience would know there was a hateful Jessica Lange remake, much less a Lana Turner original. And speaking of the original, I always thought John Garfield was kind of hot. Short, sure, but hot nonetheless in a Lower-East-Side, raging-liberal-boxer sort of way. And now I want to run down to the video store and pick up a copy of Humoresque, just to laugh at Joan Crawford. God, she was awful in that movie. What's that? You want me to keep this moving? Fine. Don't indulge me, you cheap bastards.
Raige slinks past Kerr to reveal that the back of her dress is just as poorly constructed as the front, what with the puckering seams and the bunching at her pits and all, and they really could have done better, couldn't they? She touches up her lipstick as Kerr jokingly opines, "You know, you may not blend in very well in that outfit, 'Lana,'" before he turns back to the phone book in search of the Missing Mullen's listing. Raige smirks, "As long as we're down here, we might as well have a little fun." Kerr mumbles something about survival being somewhat higher his list of priorities than amusement, just as he lands on Eddie Mullen's number. They barely have time to jot down the address before sirens hit the soundtrack and a New York City squad car pulls up outside the shop. Kerr, thinking fast, hustles Raige over to a window overlooking the alleyway. Again with the HORNS! and the DRUMS! as the mook from the last scene kicks in the shop door while the camera tilts to yet another disorienting angle. Raige and Kerr, unseen by the intruders, escape. The lead mook, apparently a cop of the dirtier sort, asks an equally corrupt and considerably older colleague, "Think they're after the Falcon?" "Isn't everybody?" the colleague world-wearily replies. "But if they think they're gonna get it before we do," he adds with a touch of menace, "they've got another think coming." The Jaunty Jazz Horns Of Wacky Wiccan Hijinks ramp up in volume as the shot cuts to...
...a slow, swirling overhead of Crossed, Double-Crossed lying where it last fell in the Not!warts Not-So-Great Hall. The camera spins abruptly to reveal Piper and Phoebe, quizzing a folder-toting Ann Cusack on Raige's whereabouts. Ann insists she hasn't seen Raige since the latter sent her off to retrieve the Mullen boys' records. Phoebe casually wonders how Ann got out of the Crystical cage, and Ann, in an amusingly smug tone of voice, confides, "She let me go after her cop friend exonerated me." "[The Doormat]?" Piper eyebrows. "Brody," Phoebe growls. "She brought him here?" Piper howls. Ann ignores Piper's outburst to note that Li'l Bulging Brody wanted to see the midget's corpse, before glancing over at said corpse and squinting, "That's odd." "That book," Ann continues, indicating Crossed, Double-Crossed. "It's been moved." Phoebe picks her way past Ann to retrieve it from the floor, but gasps when she's flung into a premonition. Well, it's a post-monition, really, but whatever. She watches Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody getting sucked into the novel for a moment before snapping out of it and leaping to her feet with a seriously freaked-out expression on her face. She fills Piper in on the sitch and insists they need the Dolt's help. Piper's all, "Ehhh, not so much," but Phoebe will brook no dissent and proposes they return to the Manor immediately, on the off chance they'll need to abuse the Book of Shadows. Ann agrees to keep an eye on the dead-eyed Psycho and poor, neglected Tiny Gay Chris before handing over the Mullen brothers' files. "Who are they?" Piper dims.
"Dicks!" Raige hisses. She and Brody stand in front of a frosted-glass door upon which "MULLEN BROS. DETECTIVE AGENCY" has been stenciled. "Heh. 'Dicks,'" Kerr Beavises. Or Butt-heads. Your choice. "No!" Raige exasperates. "Private eyes! Detectives! Don't you see? They wrote themselves in as the heroes of their own book." She then name-checks Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe before nodding at Kerr to open the door. He shoots her an "I can't believe this bullshit" look before they enter the office together to find Mikey Palmice smoking at the desk, in the middle of some never-heard conversation with the missing Eddie Mullen. Eddie, incidentally, is being played by some infant named -- I kid you not -- Bug Hall, who's apparently best known for portraying Alfalfa in that wrongheaded remake of the Little Rascals series a decade ago, so we all know what his nickname will be this evening, right? Raige politely apologizes for the interruption. Mikey Palmice huffs, "The newcomers? [Alfalfa], I thought you said you didn't know them." Alfalfa vows he's never seen Raige and Brody before in his life. Alfalfa also looks like he's all of sixteen years old, which makes me very sad indeed. Kerr apparently agrees with me, for he snorts, "Wait a minute. You're [Alfalfa]?" Alfalfa's all, "You got a problem with that?" and Raige is forced to admit they were expecting someone older. Mikey Palmice skeeves something about Raige's apparent preference for older men, Kerr defends Raige's questionable honor, and Mikey Palmice's working some serious hair plugs. Ew. Mikey rises to introduce himself as "Johnny the Gent," correctly guesses Raige and Kerr met a few of his "associates" earlier in the day, and wonders if they, too, are after "the Falcon." "Like the Maltese Falcon?" Raige guesses. "Everyone knows the Maltese Falcon was a fake," Alfalfa snorts. "The Burmese Falcon," he corrects her. Kerr and I both howl, "You've got to be kidding." Unfortunately, Kerr, they're not. Long scene short, Raige clues Alfalfa in on her real identity by emphasizing that she came from his school, and convinces him to agree to a private chat. Mikey Palmice greases his way out of the office. Once he's gone, Alfalfa turns to Raige and Kerr and groans, "Of all the books in all the libraries in all the world, you gotta get sucked into this one?" Kerr, Raige, and I all look like we'd sooner throttle the little shit than put up with more assy lines like that one. They follow Alfalfa into an interior office, where he...
...expertly slings his fedora fifteen feet across the room, where it lands perfectly on a coat rack, and I've got to wonder how many takes it took before Bug got that right. This must have been an excruciatingly long day on the set. The shot abruptly cuts to an overhead, through-the-ceiling-fan shot of Alfalfa discarding his coat as Raige and Kerr amble in after him. Alfalfa tiredly reaches for a pack of Luckies, and Raige gets in a tedious antismoking PSA as I light my fifteenth cigarette of this recap. We learn that Alfalfa's brother Dan was offed by a couple of "corrupt cops" because of a disagreement over this whole Burmese Falcon thing. "What is it with this 'Falcon'?" Raige demands. "Why does everyone want it so badly?" "'Cause we wrote them that way," Alfalfa duhs. "It's their whole motivation." Raige softens her tone a bit, complimenting Alfalfa on constructing so complex a magical reality. Alfalfa's genuinely surprised to learn that twenty years have passed back in San Francisco, as in the book, Dan just got whacked yesterday. Raige wonders why Alfalfa didn't escape from the book the moment Dan died. Alfalfa, clearly lying, explains that once the story was set in motion, neither of them were to leave until it reached its natural conclusion. He and Dan sketched out the basics, you see, then entered the book to see how everything would play out. "It was supposed to be fun," he glums. Kerr, growing impatient, begins to growl something, but just then, Alfalfa's phone rings. He excuses himself to take the call, and asks them to wait in the outer office. Raige and Kerr stupidly comply, leaving Alfalfa alone to greet Mikey Palmice on the other end of the line. "Nah," Alfalfa says, "they don't know anything about the Falcon, but I think they're gonna be trouble anyways." DUN!
Out in the main office, Kerr insists that Alfalfa knows something he's not telling them. Unfortunately, Kerr thinks the secret Alfalfa's keeping is that he really did kill his own brother, and that they might be on his list of victims. Raige counters that she knows an innocent when she sees one, and guesses that the only way out of their current predicament is to help Alfalfa first. Kerr grumbles at this just as Alfalfa emerges from his private office. He claims to have received an anonymous tip on the Falcon's location. Kerr howls in disbelief, but Alfalfa, unperturbed, and with a surprisingly good poker face, lies, "You guys coming here must have triggered the story to move forward. If we find the Falcon, we can get out. Isn't that what you want?" "Yeah, 'course," Raige hesitates. "Isn't that what you want?" she adds a bit delicately. "Yeah, sure," Alfalfa shrugs before bolting to get his car. "I hope you know what you're doing," Kerr grunts as Raige senses something supernatural. At Kerr's prompting, Raige admits she feels "almost as if someone's calling" to her.
And that someone would, of course, be the Dolt, who stands in the nonexistent attic with the novel in his hands, deploying his astral Lo-Jack. "[Raige] is still alive in there," he confirms, "but I don't know about Kyle." As the camera swings around the Dolt's massive gargoyle head to swoop over to the Manor-bound gals, Phoebe snots, "Wait a minute. You're calling him Kyle now, too?" "That's his name, isn't it?" the Dolt duhs. Phoebe gripes about Brody's involvement for a bit before Piper cuts her off with, "We need to figure out how to get them out of there without getting sucked in ourselves." The Dolt supposes he can help, and rashly flips open the book despite the Glamorous Ladies' yowls of protest. The Mullens' mojo cloud immediately attempts to ensnare him as well, but I'm Not Candy and Uniqua flare into the room for an assist, tossing a little white glow the Dolt's way that somehow deactivates the novel's pull. Though they immediately flare out afterwards, Piper's clearly sensed their presence, and warily turns to examine the now-empty corner where they'd been standing. Phoebe, oblivious, crosses to the Dolt to exclaim, "You must have shorted it out. How did you do that?" The Shifty-Eyed Dolt "guesses" that he's "a little more focused now." "What is it doing?" Piper wonders, crossing to glance over her sneaky ex's shoulder. The Dolt's opened to the eleventh chapter, where the three find new text flaring across the page opposite a sketchily drawn version of Kerr, Raige, and Alfalfa in a sedan. "It looks like it's writing itself," Phoebe, ever the rocket scientist, observes, "as if it were unfolding right now." The Manor Morons bang their heads together and quickly realize that it is, indeed, Raige and Kerr featured in the illustration, and Phoebe and Piper lean in to take turns reading the following aloud: "'Riding in [Alfalfa's] car, Lana and The Fed had no idea they were being driven straight into a trap.'" "He's setting them up!" the Dolt gasps. "Whaddya expect?" Phoebe smirks. "It's called Crossed, Double-Crossed." Phoebe snatches the book from the Dolt's hands and slings it down on the table, grabbing a pen as she goes. "What are you doing?" Piper wonders. "I am trying my hand at being a novelist!" Phoebe brays, which is her way of saying she's attempting to "write in a little twist to help [Raige] out." "Then suddenly they got a flat tire," she narrates as she scrawls the sentence in question beneath the existing text. Phoebe's childish handwriting flares red and condenses into printed text just as the sound of an exploding whitewall hits the soundtrack, and we're...
...back in the book, where Alfalfa's Chrysler Imperial grinds to a halt as the HORNS! THE HORNS! SHUT UP WITH THE DAMN HORNS ALREADY! "What the hell was that?" Kerr sighs. "It's a flat tire!" Alfalfa exclaims, shocked. "You can't get a flat tire in your book?" Raige wonders. "No!" Alfalfa protests. "It's too cliché!" Hee! He just totally dissed Phoebe. And he hasn't even met her yet. Alfalfa moves to exit the car, but Kerr holds him back, wondering what gives. Alfalfa lies that they can walk the rest of the way, but Kerr calls him on it and gets loud. Raige, caught in the middle, tries to calm them both down, but it doesn't much matter, as a couple of squad cars filled with dirty cops arrive to surround the Imperial. The older cop from the clothing store emerges to chide, "We were wondering what's taking so long, [Alfalfa] -- we been waitin'" -- and I'm going to cheat and snag his character's name from the IMDb, because I don't think anyone ever mentions it. He's Lieutenant Snyder ["I would call that a nod to Charles Durning's character in The Sting, but I don't think the writers are that smart" -- Sars], and Raige eyes him warily as she mouths, "[Alfalfa], what's going on?" "I'm sorry to do this to you," Alfalfa shrugs as Kerr surreptitiously reaches beneath his jacket for his automatic, "but this story can never end." Raige gapes as two uniforms jump up to Kerr's side of the sedan to wave their revolvers around in his face.
Attic. "The couple knew they had been double-crossed," Phoebe reads, "and there was no way out." The Dolt looks concerned. Holly Marie Combs looks bored. The camera cuts...
...back to Kerr and Raige scowling at Alfalfa as the irising camera lens sucks us into the commercial break.
Phoebe scribbles on a blank page in the novel, but the book's somehow blocking the ink from exiting her pen. "The pen's fine," the Dolt explains. "The book's just not letting you write them out of it." "Why not?" Phoebe shrills. "Maybe it's against the rules," Piper offers. At Phoebe's skeptical expression, Piper elaborates, "The book's writing itself; maybe they have to save themselves." "Then why was I able to write in the flat tire?" Phoebe demands. "It was just another plot twist, which we could add," Piper explains, pulling all of this out of her ass, much as the typewriting crack-monkeys in the writers' room must have done. "But we can't bail them out -- heroes have to be heroes." Phoebe's eyebrows hoist themselves incredulously towards the ceiling. "I read a lot!" Piper protests. Phoebe snarks something about reading a little less and getting out of the house a little bit more, leading Piper to caution, "Easy, Cupid," while shooting a glance at the Dolt. He smirks a bit and refocuses their attention on the book, adding, "Maybe there's something in the prose that can help." "'In the prose'?" Phoebe parrots. "Yes, let me check the prose, [Dolt]," she good-naturedly mocks as she flips back a couple of pages to find Alfalfa's earlier remark about the Falcon being the key to escaping the story. Piper eyes the Dolt and announces, "Let's go talk to the parents to see if they know anything about the book." Turning back to the Feebs, she adds, "You just be creative and keep [Raige] and [Li'l Bulging] Brody alive." "Okay, right," Phoebe snorts sarcastically. "No pressure!" She turns back to the novel to discover a new illustration, this one a badly Photoshopped black-and-white still of Kerr Smith seated in an interrogation room with Lieutenant Snyder about to thwack him with a billy club. As the camera pans in towards the page, the image flares and expands to fill the screen, and...
...thwack! Li'l Bulging Brody grunts and groans as Lieutenant Snyder rumbles out a few questions regarding the Falcon's whereabouts while belaboring Kerr Smith about the face and neck with the club. The camera cuts to an arty, tilted reaction shot of Raige leaping to her feet in the outside office as the sounds of Kerr's torture reach her ears. The younger corrupt cop -- whose name is "Davis," and whom I last saw on Nip/Tuck playing a formerly suicidal and decidedly sensitive gentleman who gets whacked by his fag hag -- pushes her back into her seat and gets all up in her mug to make with the suave threats and such. "Get your paws off of me!" Raige snarls. "Tell me," the cop muses, "what's a cute little package like you doing mixed up with that no-good Fed in there?" Raige tosses her scraggly hair around as the screen wipes to knock us...
...back into the nonexistent attic, where Raige's response burns its way across the novel's latest page. It's accompanied by a neat little chittering sound effect, by the way, as if a very muted manual typewriter were responsible for the text. "'Drop dead,' Lana said, ignoring the dirty cop's advances," it reads. Phoebe gazes at this for a moment before getting an idea. "Femme fatale!" she breathes. "Flirt with him, [Raige]!" Lest you think Phoebe arrived at this all by her lonesome, I should point out that the novel, a few lines above Raige's response, reads, "This cop wasn't brave, he was stupid. The type of stupid that a man becomes when he sees a dame he can't resist." Phoebe scribbles, "Then the dirty cop said..."
"Come on, sister -- don't you know how to play the game?" "'Sister,'" Raige repeats thoughtfully as the cop continues, "You're a real heartbreaker, aren't you? A regular femme fatale." The Randy Saxophone Of Promised Precinct House Fornication wails as Raige wiggles to her feet and slinks towards Davis with, "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just crazy -- crazy for cops! Tough cops. Cops that'll arrest your heart and make you long for a life sentence with 'em." Rose McGowan's clearly having fun with all of this, but my lord. She's not the best actress on the planet, now is she? Raige yanks Davis into the frame by his tie, whispering, "You know any cops like that?" Davis gulps.
Meanwhile, Kerr Smith's still getting the crap kicked out of him back in the interrogation room. I think the reason I've yet to become annoyed with the character is because someone's always knocking the shit out of him. Proxy beatings, if you will, on behalf of his much-abused original fan base for the asinine comments Kerr Smith continues to make in interviews regarding the role he played on Dawson's Creek. Newsflash, dipshit: If it weren't for that awful show, none of us would know who you are. Get over your stridently heterosexual ass already, you fucker. Li'l Bulging Brody, by now sprawled on the linoleum and spitting up blood, pants still-defiant responses as Snyder whips out a revolver and points it at the back of Brody's head. More HORNS! as Raige unexpectedly barges through the door with a gun of her own. Li'l Bulging Brody knocks Snyder off his feet with a sweeping kick to the older man's ankles. Snyder's revolver spins across the linoleum for a bit before Brody snatches it up and edges back to Raige's side. Raige, for some stupid reason, discards her own pistol. Rose McGowan, for some entertaining reason, decides to do this by exaggeratedly flinging it to the floor with a hammy snap of her wrist. Heh. I have no idea why I found that amusing. I need help. Raige checks to ensure Brody's okay, then explains that she managed to seduce Davis and disarm him "thanks to Phoebe." Li'l Bulging Brody's quite naturally confused, so Raige babbles out a hurried explanation regarding the blown whitewall, noting that it was her sisters' way of warning them about the trap. "Doesn't matter," she shrugs, before adding, "[Alfalfa's] not an innocent." Brody's had a change of heart, though, and disagrees. "I'll explain it on the way," he mutters, hustling Raige out the door. The screen wipes again to dump us in...
...Not!warts, where Piper and the Dolt are interviewing Alfalfa's mother. Long story short, Alfalfa's Mom reveals that Dan Mullen concocted the magical novel as some sort of confidence-building exercise for his younger brother. Piper realizes that Alfalfa, then, is the story's real "hero," and as such must finish the narrative on his own. Their task now is "to help [Raige] help him." The Dolt nods his massive head around thoughtfully as the screen flips us back into...
...the book, where Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody stomp through an alleyway, bickering with each other over Alfalfa's innocence, or lack thereof. It also allows Brody a chance to speed-talk his way through a little more of his backstory, which involves going all juvenile delinquent after his parents were murdered. I remind Brody that he was five years old at the time, tell him to shut the fuck up, and continue with the scene. Brody's convinced Mikey Palmice shot Alfalfa's brother. Why? Well, if the dirty cops had been responsible as Alfalfa believes, those cops would have slung Alfalfa himself into the interrogation room to beat the Falcon's location out of him, much as they did to Brody himself. Since Dan's murder, Mikey Palmice's been "playing" Alfalfa off the corrupt cops in order to snag the artifact for himself. Raige buys Brody's reasoning, and charges off down the alleyway to force a confrontation with the gangsters. The screen flips again to land us...
...back in the nonexistent attic, where Piper and the Dolt are just wrapping up a tag-team explanation of Alfalfa's true role in the novel. Phoebe's taking it all in with a giddy, goofy, gleeful grin on her face. "You guys are a great team," she dreamily doofs once they've stopped yammering at her. "Match-make later," Piper grits. "Save sister NOW." "You need to get [Raige] to Alfalfa," Piper insists, crossing to sit opposite Phoebe at the table. "I can't," Phoebe protests, filling them in on Raige's gangster hunt. "She's gonna get herself killed," frets the Dolt. "Kyle is trying to stop her," Phoebe relates, "but she won't listen to him." She pulls herself short and frowns, "Wait. When did I take his side?" "Probably around the time you started calling him Kyle," Piper eyebrows. The Dolt, cutting through the crap, orders, "Try to block her path." Phoebe snatches up her pen, and...
...an enormous upright piano drops from above to slam onto the asphalt in front of Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody. Snerk. "Could you be any less subtle?" Raige bellows at the sky. Yeah, they could have dropped an actual anvil on you foot, honey, so zip it. God knows how many mangled and fractured toes I've suffered over the last five years. "Let's go get [Alfalfa]," Raige grunts as she sweeps past the upright. Brody follows, after running his fingers down the keyboard. Uh oh. I know Kerr Smith actually plays the piano, and I'm praying that riff's not a hint that we're in for A Very Special Episode wherein Li'l Bulging Brody expresses his feelings for Raige through song. Because then I'd have to kill myself for real.
In decidedly non-musical developments, Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody burst into Alfalfa's private office to find Mikey Palmice already waiting for them. After a bit of banter, Mikey Palmice blows a hole in Kerr Smith's chest. Hooray! Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Play. Pause. Rewind. Slow-forward. I think I'm going to have to start a separate reel devoted to Kerr Smith abuse. Might as well -- they've certainly been letting the damned dirty Dolt off the hook this season. In any event, Li'l Bulging Brody drops out of the frame as Raige shrieks in alarm. Mikey Palmice sneers something deeply clichéd as the camera lens irises in to the final commercial break.
And we're back. Mikey Palmice puts the moves on Raige just as Alfalfa returns. Mikey Palmice lies that Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody arrived at the office with murderous intent, to get even with Alfalfa for setting them up. Raige frantically insists that's not true, and accuses Mikey Palmice of murdering Alfalfa's brother. "You didn't see it, did you?" she breathes. "Don't you see?" she continues. "He's been playing you -- he tried to force Dan into giving him the Falcon, but he wouldn't give it up, so now he's trying to charm you out of it." "That's it," Mikey Palmice announces, cocking his gun. "Say goodnight, Gracie," he adds, pointing the thing at Raige's tits. He squeezes the trigger, but the gun's mysteriously jammed. "Thank you!" Raige gasps. "I could use a flashback right about now!" she pleads. The screen flips back to...
...the Manor-bound Morons. Piper makes worried noises as Phoebe narrates her addition. "Then [Alfalfa] found out how Dan really died. It was as if it was happening all over again." Her scrawl chitters into printed text as the screen flips back to...
...Alfalfa's office. A heaving, groaning noise catches first Raige's, then Alfalfa's attention, and they twist their heads around to watch as the flashback materializes behind them. Mikey Palmice tosses Alfalfa's brother up against a brick wall, punches him a couple of times in the stomach, then hurls him to the ground and plugs him full of holes. Once the flashback ends, Alfalfa spins around, mouth agape, and stares dumbly at Mikey Palmice, who tries to babble his way out of it. From the floor, a bleeding but not-yet-dead Brody murmurs for Raige to "save [her] innocent." Raige launches into a boring little pep talk about Alfalfa growing up and joining the real world, as his brother would doubtless have wanted him to do. As police sirens wail outside the window, Mikey Palmice manhandles Raige, threatening to snap her neck like a twig if Alfalfa doesn't turn over the Falcon. Alfalfa crosses to remove a picture from the wall, revealing a small safe from which he extracts the artifact in question. Raige begs Alfalfa not to hand it over. "This isn't how the story's supposed to end!" she argues. Alfalfa's all, "Trust me," and smashes the thing on the floor. As the statue shatters, a white flare erupts and emits a whirling cloud of smoke that expands to engulf the room and its occupants.
Meanwhile, back in the nonexistent attic, the book glows, and as Phoebe leaps from the table to back herself into a corner with Piper and the Dolt, the mojo cloud emerges from the novel's pages to deposit Alfalfa, Raige, and Li'l Bulging Brody on the floor. The Dolt races over to apply the new and improved Avatar tingly touch to Brody's sucking chest wound as Phoebe dances around, shouting, "We did it! We did it!" Kerr eventually comes to, rolls his head in Raige's direction, and wheezes, "Hey. You're in color." "We all are," she grins. "So, we having fun yet?" she giggles. Li'l Bulging Brody indulges her with a pained chuckle. As the Dolt helps him to his feet, Piper blathers something at Alfalfa about lessons learned, or whatever, and instructs him to return home. "Your parents never gave up on you," she adds. "Or each other," the Dolt interjects, pitching a little more anvilicious woo Piper's way, which Piper receives with a stern glare. Hee. Phoebe, again and forever oblivious, points to the novel and yodels, "Don't forget this!" The shot cuts to take in the book's cover as "and The Halliwell Sisters" magically adds itself to the author slug at the bottom. Alfalfa offers the book to the Glamorous Ladies, as he quite naturally could do without the reminder of his brother's brutal murder. Raige, not getting it, enthuses that the novel will make a welcome addition to the Not!warts library. Insensitive idiot. The Dolt crosses to the grateful Alfalfa's side and orbs out with him as Raige suddenly horns up and purrs, "Hungry?" in Kerr Smith's general direction. He saunters closer to her and replies, "Starving." "Let's go, then," Raige murmurs, and the two slink out of the room as Piper, Phoebe, and Phoebe's Magical Hoo-Hoo Fairy get all verklempt at the idea of Raige riding a Homeland Security agent.
Straight Estates. Raige and Li'l Bulging Brody, still in their '40s duds, breathily flirt with one another as a flashing neon sign outside the window periodically floods the room with red light. Raige finally cuts to the chase with "Shut up and kiss me," and she pulls Kerr Smith in for a clinch. As the sound editors ratchet the lip mikes up to eleven and loud smacking noises hit the soundtrack, the camera tastefully pans away, which everyone knows is Hays-Code-Era shorthand for "And now, the fucking begins." Before we finally fade to black, "The End" inexplicably scrolls across the screen. The hell? Did they just completely blow apart the show's internal logic by tossing up a sign for the audience's dubious "benefit" alone? A sign neither generated by nor visible to any of the show's characters? Or are we meant to believe that Raige and Brody are still somehow being affected by the novel's magic, so that when they reach an appropriate ending to their part of the narrative, a supernatural sign wipes itself across Brody's apartment wall? The fuck? Christ, but I hate this godforsaken show.
The promo for week's episode reveals absolutely nothing about the story's content, but it is titled, "There's Something About [The Dolt]." So, you know, get that vomit bucket ready. Enjoy!