Previously, on Demian's Thanksgiving From Hell And Other Sordid Tales From The Dark Side, de tongues of de Secretly INSANE Brodys is be full of deceits; Detective Doormat hissed that it was as if Pepper Anderson, The Best Policewoman In The History Of Forever, had "disappeared off the face of the earth"; de tongues of de Secretly INSANE Brodys is be full of deceits, again, some more; Raige and Secretly INSANE Brody totally did it, even though they tried to convince the audience otherwise; the Dolt got a promotion; de tongues of de Dolts is be full of deceits; the Dolt said it with roses; the Dolt was of the opinion that Piper would come to understand him in her own time; and Piper replied, "There may be hope for you yet." No, Piper. There is not and never has been any hope for the Dolt whatsoever. Shut up.
Currently on Charmed, the dead-eyed Psycho, having at last escaped Holly Marie Combs's impressive post-pregnancy cleavage, coldly yanks at his uncomfortable and ludicrous bowtie with one hand while preparing to ram a plastic toy frog up Crewman Daniels's nose with the other. No, seriously. It's Matt Winston from Enterprise, last seen rather smugly gloating to Cap'n Tightass himself about one damn thing or another as the timeline reset itself after those stupid Nazi episodes at the beginning of the season. Considering last week's push of The Great Big Reset Button In The Sky on this particular series, it's either an inspired bit of stunt-casting or simply an example of the cunning corporate synergy you'd expect from the bozos responsible for this mess, given the fact that both shows now shoot on the same lot. In other words, they're poaching cast members to cut down on audition costs. Expect Ensign Maybelline to appear week as a leather-clad go-go boy Mute Demon. Anyway, Daniels, here playing a portrait studio photographer, has just finished positioning the icy sociopath on a grey fabric block in front of the latter's massive Dolt of father, and now retreats behind his camera while mumbling something about the Psycho looking "like a little angel." Yeah, in the world where little angels habitually impale their prettier younger brothers to the walls of the house with carving knives, when they're not setting out bear traps for the neighbors' pets. Speaking of prettier younger brothers, Piper's seated to the Psycho's right, and I believe that thing she's rather delicately balancing upon her lap is...yep, it's a chunk of rapidly decaying, rough-hewn whale blubber that's been sculpted into the approximate shape of her younger son, then squeezed into an infant's clothing for effect. Seriously, people. Recast! Immediately! All members of the family, incidentally, sport various combinations of black and shades of blue for the portrait, the only exception being of course the Psycho, whose uncomfortable bowtie is a bloody, murderous red. More proof that Big Gay Chris died in vain, I suppose.
Anyway, Piper gets an earful of the angel comparison and, glancing dismissively at the current backdrop of clouds and such, is all, "Yeah, now that you mention it? Not so big on the whole Up There look. Maybe we should try the brown again." Daniels leaps to pull down the requested background as the Dolt rolls his eyes around and sighs. "Okay, let's do this!" Daniels perks, but Piper's changed her mind again in favor of "the Moroccan one." The Dolt leans in to whisper, "Piper. Other people are waiting." Piper, as is her wont, explodes. "Well, I've been waiting for years!" she shrews back at the Dolt as Daniels shifts around uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Ever since I [expelled the dead-eyed Psycho from my uterus]," she hisses, "I've wanted a family portrait, and it was always one thing or another with him going...you know what, and you going bonkers." The Dolt tosses an uneasy smile in Daniels's direction as Piper finishes, "Now that I have everyone here, I'm not going to be pressured into making any hasty decisions!" Blubbery Gay Chris -- whose sky-blue shirt-and-sweater combo precisely matches his mother's silk blouse, like, fag! -- has by this point lolled his tongue out of his mouth as if to say, "This neurotic wench and her incessant bitchery have EATEN MY BRAIN!" After some more back-and-forth between the bickering divorcés, swishy Crewman Daniels is all, "Okay, pretty people! Let's do this!" You know, according to his IMDb entry, Matt Winston is married. To a lady. With two kids. I find that...difficult to believe. Anyway, just as Daniels snaps the camera's shutter, activating the strobes, I'm Not Candy, Uniqua, and that other Avatar we haven't seen in nearly a month flare into -- wait a minute. Is that Phoebe's office? It is! They're totally using All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me's set for this sequence. God, this show is cheap. Anyway, the Avatars flare in and halt all time, everywhere, just as the strobes go off. The Dolt squints through the glare to glance over at them before uneasily edging himself out of his pose, leaving the ex-wife and his sorely neglected sons frozen in position. The Psycho looks like he flays little kitties for the hell of it, Blubbery Gay Chris looks like he's suffered several debilitating strokes in the last week, and Piper looks like the sort of suburban housewife who keeps herself heavily medicated to avoid dealing with points A and B. Heh.
"This isn't a really good time," the Dolt opens, stating the obvious. Uniqua assures him they wouldn't have interrupted had the current situation not warranted so drastic an intrusion. "Someone has information that could bring the sisters to us," she continues, her eyes unnaturally bright, "to help them see the beauty of our way." "She's under attack by demons," I'm Not Candy adds. "You must save her and bring her home so she can share what she knows." The Dolt's all, "Okay! No problem! I'll get on that right away! And you just let me know when I should whack off my nuts, where I should pick up a pair of those fun black Nikes for the space ship, and how much cyanide I should dump into the Kool-Aid, okay, guys? You're the best!" Or maybe he says nothing of the sort and simply repositions himself by his family. Once he's done so, the other Avatars flare out, and time resumes. The second the photographer's reactivated strobes dim, the Dolt bends to inform Piper he's got to motor, pronto. Piper leaps to her feet to get loud, but the Dolt just pushes past her to the door, calling over his shoulder, "You have keys to the car, right?" Piper fumes.
Down in a section of Hell liberally strewn with the skeletal remains of the damned, a demon hurls a Flaming Ball Of Death at a woman who flies across a boulder to cower in the dirt on the other side. The first FBOD plows into the rock, but the demon instantly conjures another while sneering something about its intended recipient's traitorous nature as his friends cheer him on. The Dolt orbs in to interrupt the vanquishing party, however, and immediately sporks one of the demons, who promptly howls and wails and blazes his merry way down to The Waste Land. The others immediately whirl about to fling FBODs at the Dolt's gigantic and scary gargoyle head -- and my God, that's an easy target -- but the Dolt tosses up some sort of shimmery deflection shield that causes the FBODs to ricochet and zoom back to their various points of origin, obliterating all but one of the remaining demons, who smokes out before the Dolt can unleash another massive spray of sporking electricity. The Dolt hustles to the far end of the chamber to discover that the imperiled woman is actually Cordelia Chase. "This can't be right," he frowns as he stoops to gather her up in his arms, and Brian Krause needs to hit the gym a little more often, because he's really struggling to hoist tiny Cordelia off the ground here. Heh. Cordelia flings her arms around his neck, tosses her stringy mane of hair around, and flirtatiously croons, "My hero!" D'oh! The flustered Dolt purses his monkey lips and harrumphs his way into the opening credits.
Dammit! I hate it when they skip the opening travelogue! Without it, how am I ever to know which lame, flavor-of-the-week, alt-crap ovaryfest I should ignore this month? We fade up immediately on the nighttime Manor facade as the shrieking racket accompanying the Dolt's orb cloud wakes up every single damn person in the neighborhood, before we dart inside to the nonexistent attic in time to watch him materialize on the carpet with Cordelia still in his arms. Cordelia, rubbing her forehead and complaining of "a lump that won't quit from one of those little snips," wonders if the Dolt's certain he can't heal demons. "Don't push it," the Dolt warns while unbuttoning his suit jacket. "I saved your life." "Only because the stuffed shirts made you," Cordelia snorts. The Dolt wonders why Cordelia didn't just squiggle away from the attacking horde as he crosses to toss his jacket on a chair, loosen his tie, and unbutton his cuffs. Slow down, you frisky fella. You turn this into a striptease, and I'll be forced to leap into the television set and shoot you in the head. Cordelia, ignoring me, pertly retorts something about not wanting to miss his grand entrance, or something, and reveals she'd like to strike a deal with the Dolt's bosses. She also reveals she's under the impression the ever-useless Elders sent him, and the Dolt takes great pains not to disabuse her of this notion, for various sneaky and shifty-eyed reasons of which we are all well aware. They banter about their shared non-history as the Dolt rolls up his sleeves and she drops her hooded cloak to the floor to reveal that saucy little purple velvet harem number she sported in her last two appearances.
Changing the subject, Cordelia flips out a set of spirit fingers to trill brightly and sarcastically, "So is this where it all happens?" before catching sight of the purportedly fabled Book of Shadows. "Oh, my God!" she gasps, shooting the Dolt a delighted grin. She darts across the room to take a look at the thing, but the Dolt blocks her path, demanding to know why he was sent to save her. She's clearly puzzled that the ever-useless Elders neglected to pass that rather vital bit information along before sending him on the assignment, which only goes to show how little she knows of them and their eternally dimwitted ways. She's also more than a bit intrigued that the Dolt's become so "hard to read" since last they met but, she promises, she'll enjoy the challenge of breaking through his new shell, if you know what she means, and I think you do. Cordelia sets all that aside for the moment, though, in favor of admitting of her demonic colleagues, "I'm selling them out for bigger and better things." "And they're miffed!" she adds, galled. "Not that they wouldn't do the same to me in a New York minute." The Dolt hmmms at this and heads towards the stairs to fill Piper in on the current situation. "The sisters find you up here," he adds casually, "they're gonna kill ya." "Actually, they won't!" she perks, skittering along after him with a grin. "I've seen my death? No babes involved." He tosses up his hands to halt her and orders her to remain in the nonexistent room, shutting the door behind him. Cordelia immediately bounces over to the Book for a little abuse, but the Book instantly flares and snaps shut before flying through the air of its own accord and slamming to the floor on the far side of the room. "Damn!" Cordelia pouts.
Down in the kitchen, we get an over-the-soufflé, through-the-oven shot of Piper warning the Dolt not to make any loud noises before she straightens herself up and proceeds to berate him shrilly for his recent lapses in behavior. As she liberally peppers her tirade with the word "normal," I'll not be paying much attention to whatever it is that's coming out of her mouth at the moment. The Dolt splutters apologies and excuses, but Piper, not listening, peevishly crosses to retrieve the family portrait. She flips it around to shove it into his face, and we note that the Avatar's intervention has reduced the Dolt to a blur in the finished image. No, I'm not going to wonder how she already received a huge, professionally framed copy of the print when they just sat for the fucking thing, like, twenty minutes ago, because this show sucks, and I want to die. "But you know?" Piper passive-aggressively eyebrows. "I'm gonna hang it anyway. What the heck?" With that, she and the improbable portrait vanish into the dining room.
"I couldn't say no!" the Dolt protests, racing along after her. "It was important!" Piper pedebitches that Raige's "dinner date with Kyle" is of equal importance as she mounts the stairs to replace one of the old family portraits on the wall with the new photograph. She wants the Dolt to bathe the kids while she -- get this -- finishes cooking dinner for Raige and Secretly INSANE Brody. I think your stigmata are now visible from space, Piper. You martyr. The Dolt finally drops the Cordelia bomb, adding that the ever-useless Elders would be most grateful if the Glamorous Ladies would open the Manor to the imperiled demon for the day or so. Piper, barely maintaining her composure at the news, shouts, "The answer is absolutely not, because this is how things spiral out of control!" She plows past him back towards the kitchen as the Dolt bumbles around helplessly on the landing.
Meanwhile, up in the main bathroom, Raige prepares for her date with an assist from the Feebs. She's squeezed herself into a sleeveless maroon cocktail gown with garish rhinestone accents at the neck that Phoebe quite rightly insists is inappropriate for an evening at home. Oh, dear God. Did I just agree with Phoebe on what constitutes appropriate evening wear? Hell! I am in Hell! "He's gonna walk in the door and want to throw you on the floor," Phoebe protests. Raige duhs that that's the whole idea, as she's horny and wants her some more of that bulge Secretly INSANE Brody's been packing in his pants. Raige crosses to the vanity to touch up her makeup as the two natter endlessly about Secretly INSANE Brody and his obsession with the Avatars and the chemistry he has with Raige and wah before Phoebe finally assures Raige, "This is gonna work out, because it's too good for it not to." It could happen. Not. Mark my words: Secretly INSANE Brody's going end up a mojo-scorched corpse just in time for Kerr Smith's nine-episode contract to expire. Raige and Phoebe smile at each other in the mirror before spinning out into the upper hall, with Phoebe still trying to get Raige to change into something a little more casual. "Enough with the green shirt!" Raige good-naturedly grunts. "You're right," a suddenly appearing Cordelia smiles. "He'll love what you have on." "Demon!" Phoebe panics, flapping her hands around in the air while cringing behind Raige. "No active power! Do something!" Now I'm convinced I'm typing this from amongst the damned, because that was sort of amusing. In any event, Raige, thinking as fast as her puny brain will allow, summons a mirror from the far end of the hall with her orbing telekinesis and sends it flying down the corridor towards Cordelia's head. Nice work by the effects department, by the way, in superimposing Charisma Carpenter's rapidly growing face on the mirror's surface as it sails ever closer to her during this sequence. Cordelia angles her torso back in the slightest of dodges that leaves the mirror shattered on the floorboards beyond. "Is that my bad luck or yours?" she casually snides as she saunters over to examine the shards of glass. Raige makes to brain Cordelia with a potted plant, but Cordelia scampers towards the main stairs, bellowing, "[Dolt]! A little help, please!" This unexpected mention of the Dolt's name grinds Phoebe and Raige to a befuddled halt. Granted, it doesn't take much at all to reduce these two Einsteins to quivering piles of befuddled perplexity, but still. "Did she just call for [the Dolt]?" Phoebe squints incredulously. Raige, no doubt convinced her appointment with Secretly INSANE Brody's bulge will have to be cancelled, silently yet furiously simmers at her sister's side for a moment before they both race towards the stairs as the camera cuts down to...
...the dining room, where Piper's seething, "There is a demon in the attic and you didn't tell me?" The Dolt mumbles something in response as Piper catches sight of Cordelia bouncing down the main stairs and hoots, "Good God!" Piper instinctively unleashes the mighty Hands of Discontent, but the Dolt impulsively and rather amusingly shoves her from behind, knocking her face-first into the foyer carpet. Heh. In the process, he's jostled her explosive mojo slightly off-course, and it blows past Cordelia's head to demolish the Portrait Of Shrill Contention that Piper'd just hung on the stairwell wall. Hee. Cordelia scampers the rest of the way down the stairs and cowers behind the manly Dolt for protection. Yeah, let's see how that works out for you, honey. Piper, outraged, slowly pushes herself to her feet to rip the Dolt a new one as Phoebe and Raige finally enter the scene from above. "That surly one?" Cordelia winces, pointing in Piper's direction. "That's your wife?" Hee. Raige exhorts Piper to detonate Cordelia in retribution for so wanton a display of demonic impertinence. Kidding. If Berkeley-educated Raige can't define the word "flogging," I'd hardly expect her to make proper use of the word "impertinence" in a sentence. Or "retribution." Or "wanton." Or "detonate," "display," "demonic," "for," "so," "in," "of," and "a." Moron. In any event, Piper prepares to redeploy the Hands, but the Dolt stops it all by insisting that the ever-useless Elders must have their reasons for wanting the Glamorous Ladies to protect a demon. Just then, the doorbell rings. Raige, knowing it's Secretly INSANE Brody, orders Cordelia back upstairs. As Cordelia passes by with Phoebe acting as escort, she assures Raige that while the dinner will be great, what follows will be even better -- nudge, nudge -- as long as Raige keeps Brody from eating the eggplant. "What's wrong with my eggplant?" Piper indignantly howls as Cordelia and Phoebe disappear upstairs. Heh. Raige finally answers the door to find Kerr Smith lounging all Smoove-B-like on the front porch with a dozen white roses in his hand and filthy promises of godless premarital fornication twinkling in his eyes.
Hell. Wow, this is a boring scene. Basically, a bunch of demons quarrel and crab amongst themselves over the best course of action now that the Charmed Ones are protecting Cordelia. How do they know the Charmed Ones are now protecting Cordelia? Beats the shit out of me. What's important to this evening's plot is that a good number of them favor releasing someone called "Zankou," whom the Source imprisoned centuries ago for one piffling little reason or another. The louder, feistier demons favor attacking the Charmed Ones instead, and for the moment, the latter argument wins. I love the smell of scorched demon in the evening. Yawn.
Manor. Secretly INSANE Brody finishes his dinner while complimenting Raige on her mad cooking skills. Raige mugs guiltily before settling into a chair and offering him Piper's eggplant. Turns out he can't touch the stuff, as he's allergic. Raige, mindful of Cordelia's prophetic warning, takes undue interest in this admission. Brody goes on to note that he can't remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal, apparently forgetting the one he shared with Raige on the roof of Straight Estates last week. God, I hate this show. They banter, and it's dull until they finally get to the point of this scene. Raige encourages Brody to share whatever it is that's on his mind. "Well," he hesitates, "you know how I told you I don't have any secrets?" "Please don't tell me you're married," Raige blurts. Brody hastens to reassure her that he is, indeed, single. Raige heaves a sigh of relief as Brody hems and haws and stammers and stutters that he doesn't want Raige to be disappointed in him. Raige, hoping to draw whatever it is out of him with a confession of her own, finally admits she talked Piper into cooking the meal for her, as she's utterly useless in the kitchen. They lean in towards each other to mack as the doorbell rings, so we're going to have to wait another half an hour before we find out what Brody's secret really is. Could it be that he's a fucking nutjob? Hmmm. I wonder. Raige and Brody ignore the door as Phoebe skitters down from the upper floor to answer. Raige breaks the snogging to murmur, "I think maybe we should go upstairs." The two quietly canoodle their way towards the stairs as Phoebe flings open the door to find Detective Doormat on the front porch. Long, long, looooong story short, the Doormat hoofed it over to Pepper Anderson's apartment to find the entire place cleaned out "like it was a professional job." "Someone does not want me to find her," he adds, "and I think that someone just went upstairs with your sister." "Forget happy endings," Phoebe glums a bit wistfully, "we can't even have a happy beginning." Oh, whatever. No one forced you to lose what's left of your scattered little mind over The Source Of All Evil. Zip it, you hag. The Doormat reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the only thing left in Pepper Anderson's apartment -- a pen he found "jammed behind [her] desk." He's hoping Phoebe might use it to locate the missing inspector. "I'll see what I can do," Phoebe sighs.
Up in the nonexistent attic, the Dolt finishes setting a protective circle of Mystical Crysticals on the floor as Cordelia, lounging on one of the sofas with a frosty Long Island, dizzily narrates a lengthy wish list to an increasingly irritated Piper. "You know, you might want to narrow it down to your top ten demands," the Dolt impatiently grunts. "Hey!" Cordelia snaps. "I've got something you want, and the minute I spill my guts, I have no more bargaining chips, so I'm milking it for all I can." Good for you honey, but you might want to try for something a little less annoying than that lap dog you just requested. Otherwise, I might have to cheer when you're finally vanquished. Ooops! Spoiler! Piper, vaguely amused by all of this, nevertheless abruptly changes the topic of conversation to ask the Dolt if the kids were okay when he dropped them off at Not!warts. Tiny Gay Chris, you see, apparently has a rash, and the Psycho's been -- wait for it -- "a little cranky." Just a little, huh? Hee. The Dolt exasperates that the kids are fine and that, after all, they leave them at Not!warts all the time. "Exactly," Piper counters, finally getting to the point. "They spend more time at [Not!warts] lately than they do at home." "She's right, you know," Cordelia interjects. The put-upon Dolt rolls his eyes, sighs, and admits he's as uncomfortable abandoning the kids every six minutes as Piper is -- sure you are, Dolt -- but they need to resolve the Cordelia situation before the demons attack again.
Piper whines rather predictably about not being able to raise her children properly while she and her sisters "single-handedly rid the world of demons." Cordelia cuts through the crap to remind them both that she is, in fact, a demon they can get rid of right away if they'd just stop blathering about pointless bullshit and get to work already. Piper tiredly passes Cordelia's list of conditions to the Dolt and orders him up to Whitelighterland to begin the negotiations. Cordelia stops him, though, with one additional demand -- "something only the [Ever-Useless] Elders can give, and it's a deal-breaker." Piper and the Dolt eye her warily. "I want to be made human," Cordelia announces. "What?" Piper squints. "Why in hell would a powerful demon want to be made human?" "'Hell' being the operative word," Cordelia retorts, "as in I live there, and it sucks." Piper's had it, and accuses Cordelia of scamming them all. "How do we have any proof?" Piper demands. Cordelia, anticipating the proof seconds before it arrives, pivots to face a darkened corner of the nonexistent attic just as a trio of demons squiggle in with Flaming Balls Of Death at the ready. The lead invader hurls his at Cordelia's head. For some reason, it effortlessly passes through the protective Crystical cage, and Cordelia's forced to dive to the floor to avoid it. The FBOD slams into the sofa as Charisma Carpenter's stunt double somersaults behind the furniture. The Dolt takes out the invaders with a few massive sprays of sporking electricity as Piper crouches beside her superficially wounded houseguest. "I can't believe I slept with that guy!" Cordelia pouts, referring to the lead invader. Heh. As Piper warns Cordelia to stay down, three more demons squiggle into the room. One hurls an FBOD at the Dolt, but he swivels in a dodge that clears a path for the thing straight through the main attic window. Meanwhile, down on the second floor, Phoebe races through the hall as Raige emerges from her boudoir in a tizzy. "How's it going in there?" Phoebe dims. "Not well with the demon interruptus," Raige snots as she and Phoebe clomp up the second flight of stairs to the nonexistent room above. Kerr emerges from the boudoir with his shirt unbuttoned, a pensive expression on his face, and you know what? I'm over him. Finally. Fuck off, Kerr Smith. And can you believe I have Charmed to thank for this newfound immunity to his supposed physical appeal? Charmed, people. I mean, I'm well aware of the contempt familiarity breeds, but ain't life a bitch? Anyway, speaking of bitches, Raige and Phoebe arrive in the attic just as Piper and the Dolt dispatch the remaining demons. The place is a wreck, with the door blown off its hinges and various scorched antiques littering the floor. "That proof enough for ya, sweetie?" Cordelia snaps, finally emerging from her hiding place. Piper rolls her eyes and flares her nostrils all the way into the commercial break.
Piper examines the shattered remains of an antique hobby horse and groans, "Well, I guess [Tiny Rash-Ridden Gay] Chris won't be using this." As she slings a bit of splintered wood to the floor, she gripes, "I've got to stop trying to keep anything nice in this house." Meanwhile, the Dolt gingerly pokes at Cordelia's wounded shoulder, eliciting a few instant gasps of pain and outrage. Raige, irked, petulantly perches on the arm of a chair and demands to know what's really going on. "Apparently, she's selling out all of her buddies," Piper explains, "so we're doing the witness protection thing." Mention is also made of the proposed deal to make Cordelia human once it's all over. Raige scoffs at the absurdity of this, leading Cordelia to concede, "I wouldn't actually have a soul, but I could live with that." "This is so weird," Phoebe sighs. "And also a waste of my time," Raige aggravates, leaping to her feet in thwarted fury, "because I was in the middle of -- something!" Piper suggests that, in order to get the Manor Morons on her side, Cordelia's going to have to give them a little bit of useful information. Cordelia ponders this for a second before admitting that, in addition to possessing "a little black book" with the names of every possible dark demonic force the gals could ever be interested in, she's also got the skinny on the Avatars. The shifty-eyed Dolt, quietly freaking, demands to know exactly what sort of information Cordelia has on the latter. Cordelia shoots him a shrewd look as Secretly INSANE Brody ambles into the room uninvited to demand the same thing. Cordelia evasively replies, "I know they're close -- closer than you think." "In fact," she adds with a smug smile plastered across her face, "they could be here any minute." Secretly INSANE Brody takes a long moment to process this, looking for all the world like he's about to go berserk and throttle the relevant facts out of her. Instead, he wipes impotently at his mouth and bolts from the room. Raige spins on her heel to chase after him as Phoebe calls for a processing summit. Piper, Phoebe, and the Dolt leave Cordelia alone in the attic. Cordelia pouts.
As they trundle down the stairs to the second floor hall, Phoebe wonders why a force of evil would want to become human just as a greater force of evil is about to assume control of the planet. The Dolt too casually suggests that it might be because the Avatars are actually a force of good. "Is that possible?" Phoebe asks. Piper couldn't care less; she wants her house back and she wants her kids home, and so orders the Dolt upwards to strike a deal with his ever-useless brethren. Phoebe volunteers to remain with Cordelia. "Since we have similar powers," Phoebe reasons, "maybe I could tap into hers and find out what she really knows." "Good," Piper agrees, before pointing a finger at the Dolt and ordering, "Go." The gals disappear as the Dolt grimaces and sighs, "You've put me in an awkward position." His Avatar buddies flare into the Bridal Boudoir for a chat. The Dolt frets that Cordelia's so unpredictable that she could "out" him at any minute. Uniqua's certain the Dolt can prevent that from happening, and besides, what's at stake is far too important. "With her power," I'm Not Candy explains, advancing upon the Dolt, "she can literally show the sisters our future -- help them understand what we're offering in a way no one else can, not even you." The Avatars urge the Dolt to get Cordelia what she wants, and fast. The Dolt looks conflicted. And maybe a little annoyed. Oh, the hell with it. He looks constipated, just like he always does.
Hell and BORING! Demons carp. And...scene.
Manor. Up in the nonexistent attic, Phoebe enters to find Cordelia paging through a singed photo album -- an album filled, incidentally, with production photos that couldn't possibly have been taken by anyone within the world of the show, because in many of them, either everyone present is in the picture itself, or no one else was around at the time. Assy show. Whatever. It's simply a device to show how Cordelia longs for a human life, and an excuse for Phoebe to point out various family milestones while attempting to yank a premonition off Cordelia by casually touching the latter's hand and pressing against her shoulders and such. Cordelia -- who's already taken to stealing Phoebe's earrings, by the way -- knows what Phoebe's trying to do, however, and snarkily requests Phoebe to "press a little harder on that right shoulder." "After all," she smirks, "if you're not gonna get a premonition, you could at least work out that knot." "Can't blame a girl for trying!" Phoebe dorks as she edges away from unwanted houseguest, who faux-kindly commiserates that when she first started receiving premonitions herself, she too had to go through the ungodly hassle of touching people first. And then she perks, "Phone!" "Hmmm?" Phoebe eyebrows, not getting it. "Phone," Cordelia repeats, just before Phoebe's cell starts chirping in her pocket. Hee. God, Charisma Carpenter's such a bitch in this scene. No wonder she got fired. Anyway, it's the Doormat, but Phoebe quickly hangs up on him, citing more important matters at hand. Phoebe, changing tacks, notes, "Not that I'm okay with you stealing my stuff, but those earrings really do look amazing on you." Cordelia smiles slyly. "Then again," Phoebe continues, "what wouldn't?" "You know, sugar?" Cordelia condescends, calling Phoebe on her crap. "Much as I enjoy the flattery and the bonding and even the touching, you're not getting anything out of me until you make me human." "Okay, I get it," Phoebe concedes. "But what I don't get is why you want to be human. I mean, did the bad stuff just start to get to you after a while?" "No," Cordelia admits, "the good stuff did." She goes on to explain that centuries of foreseeing the happy and demonic outcomes of various situations left her longing for the former, despite the fact she "can't feel it." "Being a demon is about feeding the endless emptiness," she sighs, "and I'm sick of it." "I long for the...subtle notes in between," she concludes. "And the Avatars have something to do with that, right?" Phoebe gracelessly leads. Cordelia silently eyes her. "Right," Phoebe grunts, defeated. "Bargaining chip." Cordelia reminds Phoebe that she's not being difficult for the hell of it -- if she gives Phoebe what she wants, she won't get what she herself wants. Or something like that. God, I hate these endlessly talky scenes. Cordelia suddenly realizes that Phoebe remains doubtful Cordelia has any useful information to share. After a bit of thought, she offers to help Phoebe find Pepper Anderson instead. "If I find [The Best Policewoman In The History Of Forever] for you, then would you trust me?" she asks. Phoebe considers the offer with a spreading grin on her face, then reaches into her back pocket to retrieve the pen. Cordelia accepts it with a smile in kind.
Straight Estates. Secretly INSANE Brody frantically retrieves last week's metal case from its closet hiding place and explains the whole Avatar-killing potion deal to Raige. While he's not nearly as INSANE as he was the last time this scene unreeled, WE ALREADY KNOW ABOUT ALL OF THIS. Moving along! Raige and Brody eventually sit down on his bed, and, looking genuinely pained, he admits, "I've done some things I'm not too proud of." "We all have," Raige assures him, desperately needing to get in his pants. She caresses the back of his neck before drawing him closer for a kiss. The two mack as we cut over to...
...Not!warts, where Elder Q is rather curtly informing the Dolt that the forces of good "don't negotiate with demons." He changes his tune a bit, though, when he learns Cordelia might have some useful information on the Avatars. However, he insists, she'll have to offer up that information before the ever-useless Elders would ever consider giving in to her demands. With that, he orbs out, leaving the shifty-eyed Dolt to scuttle out of the frame alone.
On the grounds of what we shall soon learn is a psychiatric hospital, Detective Doormat stands in the early morning sun and impatiently checks his watch. In a covered passageway behind him, Cordelia smears in discreetly with the Feebs, and again, gotta hand it to the effects people. The women's shadows gradually appear on the wall behind them at the correct angle and density as the two materialize. I realize I shouldn't be complimenting those guys on what amounts to basic on-the-job competence, but hey. We've all seen the nightmares that happen when they slack off. Anyway, Phoebe yodels out a greeting upon her arrival. "You're late," the Doormat grumbles before turning around to howl in dismay at Cordelia's presence. "Who is this?" he spits. Phoebe makes with the hasty introductions before bubbling off quickly down the walk with an airy "Let's see if [Pepper Anderson's] here, shall we?" The Doormat flusters and barges around to block her path, peeving something about knowing a demon when he sees one after all these years. "Go easy on him," Cordelia mock-whispers to Phoebe. "His wife's had him sleeping on the couch all week." "How does she know that?" the instantly mortified Doormat bleats. "Seer," Phoebe duhs. "Get it? She sees things." Hee. The Doormat really is guaranteed to be the only person on this show stupider than Phoebe, isn't he? Until we hit Raige later in the episode, that is. "She's perfectly harmless," Phoebe adds reassuringly, "and actually very good at what she does. I can't hold a candle to her." "Oh, that's so sweet!" Cordelia replies, and the two women make squealy, BFF noises at each other before Cordelia finally assures the Doormat that his dazzling wife will forgive him the moment he gives her "the marzipan she likes." The Doormat, falling for it, begins to ask for more advice before catching himself and whining about that crazy-freaky Halliwell voodoo again.
Meanwhile, Cordelia's begun twirling around on the lawn with her arms outstretched, and it was at this point I knew we were at a funny farm, because none of the white-uniformed orderlies passing through the courtyard take any notice of her odd behavior. Phoebe, however, bustles over to put a stop to it. She hurries Cordelia to a door marked "Hawkbrook Mental Health Facility" while reminding her that if they don't return to the Manor quickly, the Dolt's going to "flip." The ladies plus the Doormat enter the snake pit, ambling past various muttering, drooling lunatics, and there's some chatter about all the bad that comes with being human before Cordelia casually indicates a closed door and notes, "I'd try that one." Phoebe and the Doormat enter to find an unoccupied office. "There's more," Cordelia promises, indicating another shut door on the far side of the room. The Doormat picks his way over and eases said door open slowly to reveal a pallid, wasted-looking Pepper Anderson unconscious on a bed. "I told you Brody did something to her," he growls as Phoebe breathes, "Oh, my God," and whips out her cell to phone Raige. "Please pick up the phone," Phoebe pleads. Cordelia eyes the room evenly enough, but there's a touch of sadness in her eyes. Despite the fact she's incapable of human emotion. Stupid show.
Over at Straight Estates, Raige has better things to do than answer the quietly vibrating phone that spins unnoticed on the coffee table to Brody's watch in the foreground of the shot. Namely, Brody himself. Yes, in the extremely out-of-focus background of this image, Raige is riding Secretly INSANE Brody like a goddamned jockey rounding the final curve at Pimlico with an uneasy hold on first place. She's also clearly fondling her own breasts, save for the bit near the very end where he reaches up to honk one of them for her. We endure a few of her breathy moans before we're struck blind by the utter inappropriateness and abject horror of it all. Or maybe we've just tumbled into the commercial break.
Manor. Aftermath. No, not the aftermath of Raige Matthews, Bulge Jockey. The other aftermath. Phoebe and Cordelia chase the Dolt down the main stairs, past the blasted Portrait Of Shrill Contention that Piper obstinately rehung on the wall at some unseen point and at which the Dolt throws the briefest and most hilarious of double-takes. Hee. Very fun moment. Phoebe's frantically trying to convince the Dolt that they fetch Raige from Straight Estates "before Kyle puts her in a coma, too." The Dolt instead chides Phoebe for taking Cordelia out of the house as he arrives at the potion-laden dining room table. Phoebe retorts, "Well, I needed to find out if [Raige] was dating a madman and I did and she is, so please, [Dolt], you need to go get her." The Dolt snorts something about Cordelia's inherent untrustworthiness, leading to a threat from Cordelia herself to expose the Dolt's own "dirty little secret." Oh, ew, Cordelia. Don't go there. Cordelia and the Dolt stare each other down for a bit before the Dolt finally caves and agrees to fetch Piper from Not!warts so they can go after Raige together. After the Dolt orbs out, Phoebe and Cordelia -- now, apparently, best gal pals, or something -- rather easily chat with each other about the true nature of the Avatars, with Phoebe asking a lot of questions Cordelia refuses to answer until she at last acquires "the ability to feel." Phoebe, gathering the various potions in a pouch, proposes she and Cordelia dish about Hell's more prominent dark demonic forces instead.
And speaking of prominent dark demonic forces down in Hell, we join a trio of the formerly bickering demons as they enter a deep vault to release this Zankou person. The sorcerer who accompanies them to unlock the supernatural prison, incidentally, last appeared on this program as an ancient bit of spider chow. The old guy approaches some sort of fumarole rising from the center of the chamber, from which emerges a column of blue light within which a couple of hundred bee-like things buzz and hum. The old guy then, using his staff as a key, inserts its tip in a panel on the formation's side, chants a bit of Craptin I'll not be transcribing, and twists the staff around. The blue light winks out, and the swarming bee-like things race through the chamber in formation before whipping over to the far wall and coagulating into the form of Oded Fehr, whose various movies and television shows I have never, ever seen. No, seriously. The mere thought of Rob Schneider, Movie Star fills me with unfathomable rage, so no Deuce Bigalow for me. ["They're filming the SEQUEL to that right now. Kill me." -- Sars] The Mummy? Looked like crap on toast, and besides, Raiders Of The Lost Ark ruined me for action-adventure movies of that type a long time ago, anyway. Evil Nazis melting in the face of God's Eternal Wrath? How's a stupid mummy going to top that? And no one saw Texas Rangers or Presidio Med. Don't lie. You didn't watch that shit, either. So, since we already have his character's name thanks to the endless bits of demonic exposition earlier in the hour, I'll not be referring to him as Antoine or Ardeth or whatever. "Finally," Zankou breathes as the demons behind him arrange themselves in obsequious, bowing-and-scraping-type poses of obedience. "Too bad the Source isn't still alive," Zankou continues with a sneer. "I owe him for this." He then turns to the three demons and eyebrows, "One of you was against freeing me." The Goth chick out in front rashly confesses to her doubts, but because he likes her moxie, or something, Zankou suffers her to live. For now, I presume. He reveals he knows all about recent events despite his long incarceration and demands to know Cordelia's current location. Upon learning she's being protected by the Glamorous Ladies, he muses, "A legion won't get past the Charmed Ones, but a shapeshifter might." A dorky, sharp-nosed wimp steps forward and volunteers for the job. Zankou gets all chummy with the wimp for a minute before plunging his fist into the guy's chest. The wimp flares violently orange for the briefest of moments before his shapeshifting mojo shoots into Zankou's body, with the rest of him dissipating in a cloud of black smoke. "Now I'm one, too," Zankou smirks. He turns to appraise the surviving demonic duo, who cower in fear.
Straight Estates. Secretly INSANE Brody answers his door to find Piper and the Dolt standing in the hall. He invites them in as Raige Matthews, Bulge Jockey emerges from the bedroom beyond, clad only in Brody's white shirt from the evening. Piper looks as grossed out as I feel. You know that skank hasn't had a shower yet. "What's up?" the Bulge Jockey too casually greets them for one so scantily clad. "So much for breaking it to you before it's too late," Piper mutters. She begins to explain the Pepper Anderson situation, but finds she can't look the trampy Bulge Jockey in the eye, and so barks, "Tell her, [Dolt]." "Phoebe and [the Doormat] found [Pepper Anderson] in a mental institution," he quickly states. "She was in a coma, and we believe you," he adds, glaring at Secretly INSANE Brody, "put her there." "Yeah, I actually know," the Bulge Jockey shrugs, ambling over to the refrigerator to fetch a bottle of water, before crossing back to stand at Secretly INSANE Brody's side. "And you're okay with this?" Piper splutters. "He shot an innocent," the Dolt huffs. "With a trank dart," Secretly INSANE Brody reminds them. "That put her in a coma," Piper indignantly counters. The Bulge Jockey defends Secretly INSANE Brody's actions by reminding Piper that Pepper Anderson was on the verge of exposing them all, and you know what? I almost typed "Phoebe" instead of "The Bulge Jockey" there, because that's exactly who Raige is acting like at the moment. Brainless bimbo. YOUR BOYFRIEND IS AN INSANE LUNATIC PERSON WHO PUT A WOMAN IN A COMA, TRASH. I DON'T CARE HOW BIG IT IS. Stupid size queen. Secretly INSANE Brody hastily shoots out an explanation that isn't, promising that he'll rouse Pepper Anderson from her coma the moment the Avatar threat has passed. The Bulge Jockey argues that it's for the best, despite the fact that, as the Dolt indignantly notes, Pepper Anderson'll emerge from the whole experience "after losing a chunk of her life." "You of all people should understand sacrifice," she arrogantly condescends to Piper and the Dolt, and now Piper looks like she just threw up a little bit in her mouth and is having trouble gagging it back down. "Whatever's he's done is to help rid the world of evil," the Bulge Jockey continues. "It appears to me," the Dolt sniffs, indicating Secretly INSANE Brody, "that he's the evil, not the Avatars." Secretly INSANE Brody gets loud and invokes his slaughtered parents' sacred memory, so Piper attempts to defuse the situation by urging the Bulge Jockey to get dressed so they might return to the Manor to work through it together. "I'm not gonna go, Piper," the Bulge Jockey replies softly. "I'm staying here." "WITH THE LUNATIC INSANE PERSON WHO HAS A VERY LARGE PENIS, FOR THERE IS NOTHING MORE IMPORTANT IN MY LIFE THAN THAT," she neglects to add. In any event, even Secretly INSANE Brody seems somewhat taken aback by this, but then he possessively strokes her head, so fuck him. Piper's struck speechless and openly gapes at the Bulge Jockey's gall as the Dolt, sensing the wife's on the verge of blasting the Bulge Jockey's worthless, brainless ass to Mars, quickly orbs with her up through the ceiling. "That went swimmingly," the Bulge Jockey snots as Secretly INSANE Brody kisses her on the top of her head. Fuck both of you.
Back at the Manor, Phoebe's paging through the Book, pausing on each entry long enough to receive little pearls of wisdom from Cordelia like, "Furies: Toxic, emphasis on the 'ick.' They hate me," and "Oh, the Grimlocks -- emphasis on the 'grim.' Hate me." "So what I'm getting," Phoeb
e smirks, "is that every demon in this Book hates you?" "Yeah," Cordelia admits, adding that if she had any feelings whatsoever, it would all be sort of sad, considering that the demonic hordes are, after all, her family. Phoebe promises to add a clause about human emotion to the spell they're preparing for Cordelia's transformation. They share a moment of girlish bonding before the infernal racket of the Dolt's orb cloud heralds his return from Straight Estates with Piper. Piper quickly fills Phoebe in on the new Raige situation, and together the two howl and shriek about that for a bit until Piper decides to resolve the Cordelia issue first. The Dolt begs the unusual houseguest to give him some sort of relevant information on the Avatars, so he might better plead her case before the other ever-useless Elders. Cordelia flatly refuses to consider such an option, so Phoebe, at Piper's prompting, lays it on the line: She knows that Cordelia cares as much about her as Phoebe cares about Cordelia, so, you know, out with it already. "I can't tell you," Cordelia shakes her head. "But," she adds, her tone shifting, "I can show you." With that, she offers Phoebe her hands. Phoebe glances at Piper briefly for approval, then places her palms on Cordelia's. Phoebe's eyes snap shut as a rosy glow flares out from their joined hands, and she soon fixes a serene, pleased smile on her face. The screen flares white, and we're plunged...
...into Phoebe's vision. It involves rugrats. And sunshine. And Phoebe in a wig that makes her look like Alanis Morissette, circa 1994. The good news? Ten years into the future, Phoebe's finally learned how to dress herself, apparently, for there's nary a tattoo in sight. Phalanis beams as three kids run up to her, the oldest greeting her as "Aunt Phoebe." This, obviously, is Pre-Teen Psycho, and he looks like a Hitler Youth with his carefully pressed clothing and precisely manicured hair. The middle child -- in desperate need of a haircut, natch -- is obviously Middling Gay Chris, though he looks nothing like his elder or younger counterparts. Amusingly enough, Phalanis addresses him as "Big Guy," which is awfully close to a shout-out, if you ask me. And finally, up runs a girl who leaps into Phalanis's arms, crying, "Mommy! Mommy! [Middling Gay] Chris was scaring me about the demons again!" "[Gay One]!" Phoebe scolds. "It's not nice to tease." Turning back to the girl, whom she calls "Ladybug," like, ew, Phoebe croons, "What did I tell you about the demons? They don't exist anymore. Not since the Avatars." And on that, we snap back to...
...the sun porch, where Phoebe continues to beam beatifically. "She's smiling," Piper observes, stating the obvious. "That's good, right?" "She's seeing utopia," Cordelia explains. "No demons, beyond good and evil." Suddenly, Cordelia gasps and flinches backwards as another premonition hits her and travels through her hands into Phoebe's mind. The camera snaps towards Phoebe's suddenly shocked and pained face before we jump into a blurred, sepia-toned sequence wherein Cordelia races into an underground chamber and finds her way blocked by a slowly advancing and deathly calm Zankou. "You betrayed me," he smirks. "Now you pay." He flings out both hands, and swarms of those bee-like things zip out of his palms to engulf Cordelia, who howls and flails and beats at the things before erupting into a gout of flame. The camera shoots back from Phoebe's eye as the vision ends. "What?" Piper demands. "What was it?" "I saw the most beautiful thing ever," Phoebe breathes before gazing at Cordelia and adding, "and the most terrible." Whatever. You think you have it bad? You try sitting through Patricia fucking Heaton's Christmas commercials for Jewel five times in one hour. Slag.
And we're back. The Manor foursome pass into the center parlor to process through recent events, with Phoebe ever more convinced that Brody's a threat, now that he intends to destroy something that could potentially bring about the peaceful existence she experienced in Cordelia's vision of utopia. Piper's still not quite buying it, so Cordelia confesses that she quite honestly saw nothing disturbing in the Avatars' plan for the world, aside from the fact that, you know, as a demon, she'd be among the vanquished. For backup, she turns to the Dolt, whose filthy secret she's ready to reveal. "What about you, [Dolt]?" she challenges him. "Are you gonna tell her, or shall I?" The Dolt fidgets a bit before beginning, "Apparently, what she's seen is that I know the Avatars are good." He pauses for effect before adding, "Because I'm an Avatar." "What?" Piper bites. "That's insane. What does that mean?" Phoebe can't believe he's been living in their house as an Avatar without telling them. "I'm still the same [Dolt]," he protests. Piper continues to freak, but it's more about the Dolt's ongoing deception than it is about his newfound Fabulous Avatarity. Cordelia cuts through the shrieking and the babbling to remind them all that her life's on the line. Phoebe immediately proposes she accompany the Dolt to plead Cordelia's case to the ever-useless Elders, as she can somehow share the vision of utopia with them. She turns to Cordelia and quickly explains, "Piper's gonna help you get your stuff together for your new life." This is clearly news to Piper, who remains silent nonetheless. Heh. Phoebe babbles something flattering and kind about the dress that matches the earrings Cordelia stole before linking her arm in the Dolt's, promising to return quickly with the appropriate spell. The Dolt orbs out, leaving Cordelia alone with a decidedly unamused Piper.
Not!warts. Long story short, Phoebe passes Cordelia's vision to the wary Elder Q who, despite what he sees, argues that it could still be a trick. Even if it is, Phoebe argues, it's not Cordelia's fault, as she's simply the messenger. The Elders must honor their agreement by passing over the spell. Elder Q eyes the Dolt, but we're led to believe he acquiesces. Not that it matters. Ooops! Spoiler! Uh. Again!
Manor. The Bulge Jockey completes her Orb of Shame, arriving in the upper hall in last night's cocktail dress just as Piper emerges from the Bridal Boudoir with a bag of cast-off clothing for Cordelia. Piper reveals that, through their shared power of premonition, Cordelia was able to show Phoebe her vision of the Avatars' future, and surprise, surprise, it seems pretty good. The Bulge Jockey, now under the thrall of Secretly INSANE Brody's Secretly Amazing Penis, snaps not a few nasty things before spinning on her heel to slam into her own bedroom to pack, her apparent intention being to move out of the Manor and in with her insane lunatic person boyfriend. Stupid bitch.
Up in the nonexistent attic, Cordelia delightedly -- despite the fact that she cannot feel joy, because this show sucks, and I want to die -- models some frilly, fuchsia thing that's totally wrong for her coloring. Piper enters, and after a bit of babbling about Cordelia's hopes and dreams, we learn the character's actual name is Kira, and yes, yes, very clever giving her the feminine form of Cyrus, which means "far-sighted." Shut up, Charmed. Kira dizzes around in front of the mirror for a bit more until an oddly solemn Phoebe lopes into the room. Piper notes with growing anxiety that the demon could attack at any moment. Phoebe suggests she head downstairs to fetch the Elder's spell from the Dolt, who's down there attempting to convince The Bulge Jockey to stay. Piper, sensing nothing out of the ordinary, complies and vanishes down the stairs. "You look really great," Phoebe notes, wandering around Cordelia for a bit. "You sure you don't mind me borrowing it?" Cordelia asks. "No, not at all," Phoebe allows before adding, "Although I'm more of a black kind of guy myself." Cordelia too slowly realizes something's more than a bit off as Phauxbe finishes, "I think it's a lot more appropriate for a funeral, don't you, Kira?" With that, Phauxbe snatches Cordelia up by the throat and morphs into Zankou. He's suavely threatening, she's perkily defiant, and I'm tired. Zankou eventually pushes her across the floor and unleashes a spray of those black buzzing things that envelops Cordelia just as the Dolt orbs in from Not!warts with the real Phoebe. Zankou flames out before they get a good look at his face, and Piper scurries back into the nonexistent room in time to watch Cordelia explode in a jet of flame. And not a second too soon, if you ask me, because those fucking screams of hers could cut glass.
"That wasn't you!" Piper gasps as she retrieves Phoebe's singed earrings from Cordelia's ashy remains, and why the baubles wouldn't have been demolished in the vanquish along with everything else Cordelia was wearing, I haven't a fucking clue. Nor do I care, because there's less than a minute to go, here. "That was the demon from my vision," Phoebe confirms. Piper, crushed and angry over losing what she grew to consider another innocent, groans, "We can't keep doing this. There has to be another way." "There is," Phoebe reminds her. "A better way. She showed it to me, and it was beautiful." Phoebe turns to the Dolt, and with a hint of childish pleading entering her voice, mewls, "I think I want to meet them." "And I want you to," the Dolt replies, "but you need a clear mind to do so, and I don't think now is the right time." "Now is the best time," Piper insists as she crosses to his side. "Call them." The Dolt closes his eyes and, presently, the three Avatars flare into the room. Piper and Phoebe look somewhat taken aback at their appearance -- which, you know, they should be, because both guys have facial hair and all three are wearing black, which is never, ever a good sign on this show -- but Piper draws herself up to state, "We're listening." The Avatars smirk in triumph as the screen cuts abruptly to black. This can't be good.
And neither can week, when the WB airs a rerun of the asstastic "Styx Feet Under." See you back here in a few!