Previously on Make It Stop! Please Make It Stop!, the Dolt took a test rigged by Elder Q, then plunged from the top of the Golden Gate Bridge to land on his massive yet springy beer gut; Raige hated her job; and Zankou brought an end to the recent Avatar debacle.
Currently on Goddamn It!, the Dolt, with his hand covering Piper's eyes, steers the wife into the nonexistent attic. Once she's in position, he removes his hand with a bright, toothy "Surprise!" and we follow her point of view around the room to realize he's ordered and reorganized the nonexistent room's contents. Piper is less than pleased, for it seems the Dolt's been puttering around the entire Manor rearranging things ever since his "fall from grace," and while she appreciates the effort, she'd rather he leave any potential clean-ups to her. For she is both a martyr and a massive control freak. Or something like that. However, none of this is really all that important. What is important is the huge three-foot-tall dollhouse now occupying the center of the floor, which the Dolt found "under some blankets." The dollhouse is an exact replica of the Manor itself, right down to the many doors and windows of the sun porch, which doesn't exist on the house they've been using for the exteriors for the last seven years. Make of that what you will. And what you will make of it is that this stupid show sucks, and you want to die. Admit it. "I haven't seen [the dollhouse] in years!" Piper sings, wide-eyed as she approaches the thing. Those eyes narrow when she notices a recently added detail, and she frowns, "Is it wet?" "It needed some touch-ups," the Dolt blunders apologetically. "Have you gone crazy again?" Piper demands. The Dolt quite rightly wonders what the hell she means by that. After running through the Dolt's supernatural résumé, Piper adds, "It's just that, if it's magical, you've done it, so it's not going to be easy to adjust to not having powers overnight, and tackling all these...projects is a little obsessive." "What am I supposed to do?" the Dolt protests. Get a freaking job like everybody else on the goddamned planet, you lazy tool. He ignores me, as is his wont, to moan about how useless he feels now that he can no longer orb and heal and consult with ever-useless Elders and whatnot. "I just want to fit in," he pleads. Piper assures him they'll work through his current issues together, and reminds him, "This is what we wanted -- normal." "I guess I didn't expect normal to be so hard," the Dolt glums. Oh,poor you! Put up and shut up, wrinkle boy. Your whining has become tiresome, and we're barely three minutes into the damn episode. Just...just...CRAM IT. "We've got plenty of time," Piper soothingly counters above my screams of rage, gifting him with a warm and reassuring smile before moving in for an embrace while a rather large, bald, leatherbound gent flares into the nonexistent room over by the door, whereupon he whips a boomerang-shaped dagger in the Manor Morons' direction. The Dolt violently shoves Piper to the floor just as the boomerang slices a shallow gash on his forearm. The weapon continues arcing around the Dolt as Piper pushes herself to her knees to deploy the mighty Hands Of Discontent. Unfortunately for her, the invader flares out almost instantly, and so the Hands' mojo ends up demolishing a low set of shelves full of priceless first editions. Meanwhile, the boomerang's embedded itself in the attic door. "Still think we've got plenty of time?" the Dolt snips, clutching at his injured arm. Piper's all, "Mr. Pissypants? Yeah, over here. I'd advise you to be mindful of the fact that you can no longer reconstitute yourself when I unleash these Hands of mine upon your massive ass, so you might want to watch it there with the mouthy sarcasm, Monkey Boy." Only she's much more non-verbal about it than I was.
Down in the Underworld, the leatherbound invader, scowling, flares into a darkened chamber. Standing in the far shadows awaiting his arrival is none other than your favorite dark demonic force sent from the flaming maw of Hell and mine, Zankou. How can I tell it's Zankou, even though the far figure is nothing more than a black outline? Easy. Oded Fehr, for some reason, always stands with his feet spread far apart and his pelvis jutting forward in rather a lewd manner. It makes for a distinctive silhouette. Whether it's a character choice, or if he's always like that, well, you'll have to ask him. "Did you wound him?" Zankou breathes. "Just as you instructed," the henchdemon replies. "Good," Zankou croons as he strides slowly into the dim light to flash his dazzling set of choppers in a sly smile for a moment, before vanishing into the opening credits. DUN!
Opening travelogue. Tonight's ovary, unusually enough, has lovely diction. Hooray! Unfortunately, the first words out of her mouth are, "I still got sand in my shoes and I can't shake the thought of you," which makes absolutely no fucking sense, so shut up, Travelogue Ovary. The camera zooms around the Bay Area for a bit before shuddering backwards over the downtown area into a cross-fade over to the Manor. Up in the nonexistent attic, the Dolt grips the deadly demonic boomerang in one hand while abusing the Book of Shadows with the other, searching for an entry on their recent leatherbound invader. Piper enters with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a white cloth and asks not unkindly, "Why aren't you sitting down? You got hit." "It's just a scratch," the Dolt replies dismissively before noting that he thinks "the crescent" he now holds "might be tribal." Piper, not having it, draws him away from the Book's stand to ease him into an armchair, all the while fretting about his inability to self-heal and basically ordering him to butt out of matters demonic from now on. "Demons try to kill us every week," the Dolt protests. "What do you want me to do -- go hide in [Not!warts]?" Well, I'm all for that, as long as it keeps you off my damn television screen. Piper agrees with me, though I'm sure her motivation is a bit less hostile. "It's a thought," she shoots back at him. "I was kidding!" the Dolt furrows incredulously. "Well, I'm not," Piper sighs, setting the peroxide on a side table. "You've only got one life to live, and I'd like you to start taking care of it." "I didn't become mortal to run and hide," the Dolt counters firmly. "I'm staying put." Piper wiggles her eyebrows around in frustration, but remains silent.
Somewhat less silent is the dead-eyed and normally mute Psycho, who's suddenly appeared in the doorway to bleat, "Deh-deh." I think those syllables this time around were part of the longer line, "I have at last succeeded in slaughtering my younger, soon-to-be-prettier brother! He's dead, do you hear me? Dead! Dead!" that the Psycho would have delivered were he not also, in addition to being a sociopath, profoundly retarded. Seriously. The kid's almost three years old, and he's still not talking? Exactly how many times has the stupid, bumbling Dolt dropped this kid on its head? The Dolt, eager to escape Piper's disapproving glare, leaps from the armchair to cross to his murderous son, who seems unnaturally preoccupied with something on the floor. Something I'm willing to bet is one of poor, abused, and woefully neglected Tiny Gay Chris's dismembered toes. Which the Dolt missed during his earlier power-clean of the nonexistent room. Trust me on this one. The Dolt somehow manages to get the wee serial killer's temporary attention, and there's some babytalking from the Dolt before he wraps his elder, merciless, malignant offspring in his arms for a hug. The Psycho -- natch -- remains expressionless. God, I hate kids on TV. Even the ones I secretly fear. Piper, still crouched by the armchair, watches the two of them with a sort of wistful concern.
Not!warts. Raige spins in the chair at her desk in the headmistress's office like the preadolescent mental midget she's become over the last three years, blathering something to herself about "advanced magical orbing" and whether she should schedule it on Tuesdays or Thursdays. I so do not care. Piper ambles into the doorway with the deadly demonic boomerang, and there follows an unfunny bit wherein Raige convinces Piper to hurl the thing at the huge parchment calendar page behind the desk so that it might make her scheduling decision for her. God, I hate this show. Piper snarks something about "the future of magic being in such capable hands" that comes across far more teasing than snide, but really. It's long past time someone called the utterly incompetent Raige on her bullshit. In any event, Piper quickly cuts to the chase, informing Raige of the attack earlier that morning and of the Dolt's resulting injury. She'd like Raige to scry for the leatherbound invader with the boomerang while she herself heads back to the Manor to "protect" the Dolt, and hey! How the hell did Piper get to Not!warts, anyway? A spell? That asinine portal we haven't seen in well over a year? No, wait, I've got it: She just cabbed it over to Columbus Avenue, right? Rrrrgh. Whatever. We'll never find out, so I'm not going to waste any more space on the matter.
Anyway, Raige quite sanely wonders why, if it's protection Piper seeks, she didn't drag the Dolt to Not!warts with her. Piper reluctantly admits that the Dolt's being "stubborn," thereby forcing Piper to sneak behind his back to arrange a protective and surreptitious circle of Mystical Crysticals around the house to ensure his safety. Raige cocks a brow at this and wonders what else Piper's not telling her. Piper wearily relates the Dolt's Issue Of The Week, including as she does so an entirely unnecessary reminder that the Dolt can no longer heal the Glamorous Ladies when they've been injured in a fight. This reminder exists, apparently, only to offer the two an excuse to mention the Psycho's actions at the end of the last episode, and to provide Piper with an opportunity to explain why they'll not be expecting her elder son to function as their Whitelighter. "I don't want to keep forcing [the Psycho] to tap into his powers like that," she argues. "We can't keep traumatizing him like that." Oh, whatever. He's a bloodless little freak, Piper. He's incapable of trauma. Well, receiving it, at any rate. God! ANY-way, Piper rises to return to the Manor, but not before she suggests Raige contact the Feebs for assistance. Raige promises Piper she has the situation well in hand, then childishly spins once more in her chair to examine the deadly demonic boomerang still protruding from the calendar.
Lair Of The Zankou. The leatherbound invader's assembled a gaggle of his similarly clad colleagues, and I'm just going to cheat and look up the character's name in the Internet Movie Database, because this is getting ridiculous. It's "Craven," and as he assures Zankou that he's collected his "fiercest warriors" for tonight's wicked plan, it becomes clear that proper dental hygiene has never been one of Craven's priorities. Seriously, the guy's teeth are Deadwood bad, here, and it's kind of grossing me out. In any event, Zankou mildly replies, "I hope they're as capable as you claim -- the Charmed Ones will be here soon." Craven all but pops a chubby at this news and giggles, "So you're luring them into a trap to destroy them?" Zankou gets this supremely disdainful expression on his face and withers, "You think I can destroy them with one small trap? No wonder demons always perish at the hands of those witches." Heh. Craven practically chokes on the retort you can tell he'd love to unleash in Zankou's direction before rather respectfully wondering what Zankou's actual intentions are, then. Simple: By having Craven wound the Dolt, Zankou's ensured that the Charmed Ones "will retaliate with the full Power of Three," but only after they've spirited the Dolt and the kids off to a secure location. While the Manor lies thus unoccupied, Craven's to return topside to locate the Nexus and, with it, the Woogyman, which Zankou insists upon referring to as "The Shadow," but we'll just ignore that, shall we? And...that's pretty much it, really. Craven and Zankou do bicker a bit about how many demons seem to go missing after allying themselves with Zankou, and while Craven certainly has a point, it's not terribly important to this evening's events.
Also not important? Virtually the entire scene that follows. Up at All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, Phoebe sits at her desk with a red marker, editing her column's galley proof while muttering absently, "Split infinitive? I don't think so." Like she'd recognize a split infinitive if one walked up to her and smacked the taste out of her mouth. With a frying pan. Shut up, Phoebe. Raige, unannounced, orbs into Phoebe's office, and, ignoring Phoebe's shouts of outrage! and exposure!, quickly fills her half-sister in on the morning's events. There's some tedious blather about how Raige feels "cooped up" at Not!warts before Phoebe rises to inform Elise Rothman, Girl Editor that she'll be leaving early that day. Not so fast, Feebs. Seems Elise has a "family emergency" of her own, and she'll need the Feeble One to manage that evening's edition of the paper. Phoebe, gobsmacked, splutters and stammers and stutters and gags, and what about Richard Dillard, the assistant editor? He's out sick, Elise lies, leading Phoebe to protest, "But I'm just an advice columnist -- surely you're skipping some rungs on the ladder, here?" "Don't sell yourself short!" Elise too brightly sings before dropping the faux affability and her tone of voice to add, "Besides, you owe me. Just think of all the times I've covered for your family emergencies." Phoebe rolls her eyes around and sniggers, "Yeah, but that was different." "How so?" Elise ices. "Because," Phoebe doofs, "they were my emergencies." Hag. Nasty, hateful, self-centered, bony-ass, hag. "So your life is more important than mine?" Elise hoots, and oh, Elise. You know you have my full support here, but...of course Phoebe's life is more important than yours. She's in the opening credits, while you're at the tail end of the guest scroll under the travelogue. Get with the program, honey. Phoebe attempts to apologize, but Elise just presses her BlackBerry into Phoebe's palm as she sails past towards the main office doors and instantly, the hijinks ensue. I'll not be recapping the present hijinks in any real detail, nor will I be doing so for any of the subsequent hijinks in this storyline, because they're beyond annoying, but do know that the Feebs finds herself besieged by various frantic and LOUD editors and features writers and ad men and swishy gay fashion reporters and EVERYONE SHUT UP (but especially you, you mincing stereotype at the end of that list) as Raige stresses in the background and we cut over to...
...the nonexistent attic, where the Dolt and the Psycho play with the dollhouse while poor, abused, and woefully neglected -- but not, apparently, deceased -- Tiny Gay Chris finds himself unceremoniously imprisoned in his hand-me-down product-placed playpen. Tiny Gay Chris's monster noggin is swaddled in a thick blue knit cap, no doubt to hide the scars and bruising from his insane brother's last horrific attempt on his life. The Psycho, typically enough, remains dead-eyed and silent throughout, but Tiny Gay Chris amusingly lets out a giggly, enthusiastic, pre-verbal squeal of delight for some reason or another. Cute! But still: Poor Chris. He has no idea how wretched and futile his life ultimately becomes. Sigh. Piper enters, and there is rampant bitchery when she discovers that the Dolt's deactivated the Crystical circle, so Piper and the Dolt head down the stairs to have, as the Dolt puts it, "an adult conversation." The doomed Tiny Gay Chris lets out another giddy squawk at this news, but the murderous Psycho simply pivots to train his vacant, cold stare on his parents' retreating forms. DUN! Eventually.
Lair Of The Zankou. Raige orbs in with the Feebs, who's mid-rant about Elise dumping responsibility for the evening edition onto her inexperienced lap. Raige cares as little about this plot development as I do, apparently, for she silences her yappy half-sister by hissing, "Focus!" The two pick their way across the cracked dirt floor until Zankou flames in before them with a merry, "Greetings!" Heh. He's mildly annoyed, however, to realize that Piper hasn't joined Phoebe and Raige on their little demon-sporking jaunt. Phoebe, not getting it, impatiently blares, "We'd love to stay and chat, but we have business to attend to." "I know," Zankou twinkles, snapping his fingers to conjure a trio of Craven's underlings. "Gonna take longer than ten minutes," Raige grunts as she and Phoebe hurl a few vanquishing vials at the new arrivals. Zankou darts out of the frame to avoid the resulting explosion, which floods the screen to whisk us back to...
...the Manor, where the Dolt's just arrived on the main floor from above for another round of bickering with the wife. It's endless, and it's nothing we haven't heard before, but they do manage to arrive at an affable enough truce just as Craven flares onto the sun porch with a pair of his underlings. "What are you doing here?" Craven screams as Piper demolishes the underlings with a flick of her wrists. Craven darts into the dining room, and there follows a little game of cat-and-mouse as Piper, Craven, and the Dolt warily edge around the main floors' many, many corners, accompanied by a series of bizarre, blurry, swooshing camera transitions. The Dolt's suddenly alarmed, however, when he realizes that the Psycho's silently appeared on the stairwell, and he heedlessly rushes into the foyer to order the bemulleted sociopath back upstairs. Craven spots the Dolt's wide-bodied shadow on the foyer floorboards and unleashes another deadly demonic boomerang, which slowly whickers through the center parlor before whipping around the corner and driving itself into the back of the Dolt's left shoulder. "[Dolt]!" Piper shrieks as she scampers from the dining room onto the sun porch to hurl some explosive mojo at Craven, but her warning arrives a little too late. What's more, her Hands, while knocking Craven to the floor, do nothing more than spark against the demon's upper arm. Craven flares out as the Dolt drops to his knees in agony. The dead-eyed Psycho, meanwhile, watches all of this from above with -- at best -- a mildly annoyed look on his face. At least he's finally displaying some sort of emotion, I suppose. The Dolt, grimacing in pain, extracts the boomerang from his back and struggles to his feet as Piper races to his side. Then, for the Psycho's supposed benefit, the pitiful Dolt assumes as brave a face as he can muster given the circumstances, as both he and Piper urge the brat to head back upstairs. The Psycho just stares at them. Piper, unnerved, sotto-voce sing-songs to the Dolt, "What is he do-ing?" Heh. The Psycho blinks, and his parents immediately vanish from the main floor in a burst of bright, raying, golden light. The Psycho, tugging at his mouth for some strange and no doubt sinister reason, orbs up through the ceiling to...
...rematerialize in the nonexistent attic. He stands at the center of the room, balefully glowering at the dollhouse, wherein a tiny flash of golden light suddenly shines from the front parlor's window. The camera shoots in close to reveal Piper and the Dolt, now miniaturized, standing behind the glass. "What just happened?" the Dolt bleats. The shot cuts inside the tiny Manor, and as the now-looming Psycho grins maniacally down at his parents through the wee parlor window, Piper bites, "Uh oh." You got that right, darling. Piper and the Dolt gape for a bit as the Flatulent Oboe Of Isn't It Hysterically Funny That The Psycho Wants His Father To Bleed To Death? blats on the soundtrack, and then they all vanish into the commercial break.
Hell. Explosions erupt off-screen as Phoebe and Raige dart around a corner to cower in an antechamber somewhere within Zankou's warren of caves. Phoebe bitches about her deadline for an unnecessarily lengthy period of time before she and Raige wonder how a demon attacking the Dolt has led to Zankou attacking them. No time for an answer just yet, as we cut back to the main chamber, where the somewhat injured Craven's just arrived from the Manor to bitch about Piper's unexpected presence. Zankou blows him off in favor of making cheery "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" noises in Phoebe and Raige's general direction. Hee. Unfortunately for the gals, Elise's BlackBerry starts chirping. "Would you turn that thing off?" Raige peeves. "I know, I know," Phoebe flutters. "But you gotta admire the range on this thing!" I know I must be losing my mind, because that was sort of funny. Though I am wondering how much BlackBerry paid for that particular bit of product placement. And is it really the sort of message they want to be sending to potential customers? "Don't miss a single call ever again -- even when you're finally rotting in Hell!" Zankou, stalking in the direction of the PDAs beeps, shouts, "You're making this too easy!" He rounds one final corner, and d'oh! Phoebe's left the BlackBerry in the dirt while she and Raige sought out another hiding place. Zankou angrily stomps the thing silent as Phoebe calls out, "Looking for us?" She and Raige emerge from another alcove to toss a whack of vanquishing vials at Zankou's torso. Zankou, quick on the snap, telekinetically deflects the vials into a loitering group of Craven's minions, who instantly vanish in gouts of flame. "You missed!" Zankou hisses with a delightedly malevolent grin. Heh. Raige quickly orbs out with the Feebs, leaving Zankou and Craven alone to regroup.
Nonexistent Attic. The Psycho nonchalantly flips a toy around on the carpet while Piper and the Dolt struggle and fail to capture his attention from within the dollhouse parlor. Piper even approaches the window in order to pound on it, but finds herself sparked back to the Dolt's side by some sort of "protective shield" the Psycho has erected. The two retreat into the miniature room for a processing summit, with the Dolt easing his grievously injured self onto the surprisingly comfortable sofa while Piper paces around near the hall. We learn that Grams constructed the dollhouse many, many years ago, before Piper knew she was a witch. "Obviously," Piper notes, eyeing her preternaturally realistic surroundings, "she used some kind of magic." "It's pretty perfect," she continues, crossing to the light switch on the wall, which she flicks up and down a couple of times to no effect. "Almost perfect," she amends as the Dolt hears noises outside. It's Raige, who's shocked and appalled to find the children alone in the nonexistent room with no sign of their parents elsewhere in the Manor. Piper jumps back over to the window in a futile attempt to alert Raige to her diminished presence, and even goes so far as to deploy the Hands. Unfortunately, the resulting explosion is both small enough not to be noticed from the outside and large enough to send Piper hurtling backwards through the air within to demolish some piece of dollhouse furniture with her derriere. Raige, meanwhile, has collected Tiny Gay Chris from the playpen and now squats down to place a hand on the Psycho's back before orbing both kids over to Not!warts. The glow from Raige's orb cloud illuminates Piper's dismayed face for a moment before fading away. Piper snorts something tart in her husband's direction before sagging dejectedly to the floor. I really hate to have to say this, Piper, but don't be bitching at the Dolt over this whole mess. You had the opportunity to bind that little psychotic freak's powers last year, and you refused to take it. Suck it up, Piper. Suck. It. Up.
Lair Of The Zankou. Craven and a fresh horde of underlings wander into the main chamber as Zankou meditates, focusing on the Manor far above. Presently, he opens his eyes to announce that the house is now most definitely unoccupied. "That's what you said the last time," Craven sneers, dipping a finger in the gash opened on his bicep by Piper's mighty Hands before sticking that same finger in his mouth. Ew! Guess that explains the teeth -- he's been snacking on the pus from his various suppurating wounds for too many years. "A slight miscalculation," Zankou retorts, entirely ignoring Craven's disgusting eating habits, "but the plan was to get them out of the Manor, and they are." "Probably circling their broomsticks at [Not!warts]," Zankou sneers dismissively -- more to himself than to the others present, incidentally -- before ordering Craven to follow him up to the Manor. Zankou instantly blazes out of the chamber to reappear just as swiftly in the main Manor hall. Craven soon enough flares in beside him, with the fresh horde of underlings bringing up the rear. Zankou tosses off a couple of additional directives while mounting the stairs to the second floor as Craven sets the underlings to finding the Nexus. So what do the henchdemons proceed to do? Root through the sofa cushions, of course. No, seriously. God, demons are dumb.
Dollhouse Of Doom. The Dolt mopily supposes he's going to die. Piper, irritated, angrily reminds him that he used to be a doctor, for Christ's sake, before finally snapping, "You've got to stop focusing on what you can't do and start focusing on what you can. Come on -- improvise!" "All right," the Dolt replies, thinking real hard for a moment. "Grams used to like to sew, right?" he asks. "Yeah," Piper warily confirms. "Where?" the Dolt wonders. Piper notes that the Psycho's bedroom used to be Grams's sewing room back in the day. "Why?" she eyebrows.
Cut to the Miniaturized Prue Halliwell Memorial Bimbo Boudoir Of Paisley Tit Slings And Other Fashion Atrocities, currently occupied by a dress form and a manually operated and quite ancient sewing machine. Or, you know, reasonable facsimiles thereof. Because it's a dollhouse. Whatever. Piper and the Dolt enter, and Charmed proceeds to rip off the series premiere of Lost -- specifically the scene wherein Kate stitches up the gash in Jack's back -- only Charmed's version lacks the instructive lecture on fear. And the aesthetically appealing presence of Matthew Fox. Oh, gross. No, I'm not talking about the gratuitous shot of Piper running a needle through the Dolt's gaping and jagged shoulder wound. My overwhelming and dispirited disgust was actually triggered by pudgy Brian Krause stripping down to a grey beater. Ick. And...scene? Please? Okay, and...scene. Whew.
All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, and crap. God, I hate this subplot. Amid the screams and demands currently being made by her agitated co-workers -- among them the aforementioned screeching, flap-handed fairy of a fashion editor portrayed by the rapidly balding Patrick Bristow -- Phoebe manages to get Elise on the phone, and it becomes clear Elise has taken a page from Chronic The Hedgehog's dating playbook when we learn she actually bailed from the office to spend the afternoon at a cocktail lounge with her assistant editor. Whatever. Phoebe begs Elise to return to the paper, but Elise just snaps shut her cell to canoodle with her Dick as Raige suddenly appears from Phoebe's office to drag the Feebs into a private little confab. She fills Phoebe in on the disappearance of Piper and the Dolt, so Phoebe blares something to the bullpen in general about...I totally don't care, before vanishing with Raige into her office and shutting the door. The glow from Raige's subsequent orb cloud spills across the floor through the door's bottom crack before we cut back over to...
...the Manor, where Raige orbs into the foyer with the Feebs. Zankou, accompanied by a cadre of henchdemons, lopes into the hall from the center parlor and quickly realizes -- thanks in large part to Phoebe's atrocious attempts at bluffing her way through the current crisis -- that the gals have somehow lost track of Piper. "'The Power of Two' just doesn't have the same ring to it," he smirks before telekinetically snapping the front doors open, flinging the gals bodily onto the porch, and locking them out of the house. "Now what?" Phoebe grunts.
"Tie it off," the Dolt replies, speaking, of course, to Piper, and HATE. I hate call-and-response transitions. Haaaaaate. Piper finishes stitching up the wound in the Dolt's back fat as they banter about growing old together, or something, before Piper notices Craven's ominous shadow passing across the dollhouse window, all but obliterating the light from the room outside. She crosses to push aside the curtains, and upon spotting Zankou on the far side of the nonexistent attic, gasps, "What is he doing here?" Zankou obliges her by loudly discussing his plan to absorb the dread Woogy, which he should be able to do "now that evil has taken control of the Manor." Piper gets a panicked look on her face as she spins from the dollhouse window to vanish into the commercial break.
Dolthouse Of Doom. Night has fallen outside the Manor, so Piper and the Dolt find themselves navigating the Dolthouse halls virtually in the dark, which they somehow manage to do while plotting out possible courses of action. The Dolt's of the opinion that they should escape, make their way across the nonexistent attic to the Book of Shadows, and climb the Book's stand to summon Phoebe and Raige with a spell. And that's a stupid, foolish, idiotic, asinine, harebrained, half-witted, ridiculous plan, Dolt. You are, as you've noted, three inches tall. How do you expect to scale the four-foot stand's single, central, rounded support and then make your way from the underside's midpoint to the top of the now-enormous platform? I'm not seeing any Batman-esque Dolt Utility Belt wrapped around that rapidly expanding waist of yours. Asshole. Unfortunately, Piper has few other options, so the two stroll through the Dolthouse's main floor until she locates the spot on the miniature sun porch where everything supposedly swings apart. The Dolt smashes a toy chair and attempts to pry open an exit, but his wee little body's too weak to manage the task. So, he rather blithely instructs Piper to deploy her Hands, unreasonably reasoning that the Psycho's protective mojo affects only the Dolthouse's doors and windows. Just go with it. Piper, clearly mindful of the battering she received the last time took on her batshit son's crazy force field, gingerly complies, and manages somehow to knock the side of the house outwards a bit. After the two edge their way into the attic, there's a satisfying and showy little effects shot of their tiny figures scampering across the highly polished floor to the Book's stand as two henchdemons obliviously guard the attic door. Actually, to be honest with you, the miniaturization effects tonight have been uniformly superlative. Pity the writing sucks a big one.
Down in the Bridal Boudoir, Craven enters to find Zankou perched on the bed, avidly poring over Piper's diary. Zankou's stumbled across the entry related to Prue's Death By Alyssa and muses that, as "humans are slaves to their own emotions" and as "the strongest emotion is love," his "miscalculation" regarding Piper's devotion to her husband was...avoidable? It's not clear, and I think the only reason this monologue exists is to show that Zankou, unlike so many demons we've known in the past, is more than able to learn from his mistakes. In any event, Craven listens patiently enough to all of this before finally clearing his throat to announce the discovery of the Nexus. The demons exit into the upper hall.
All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me. Phoebe scribbles some edits to a story at her desk as Raige orbs in with the distressing news that her scrying has failed to locate Piper and the Dolt. Phoebe orders Raige to hold that thought for a minute as she puts the paper's evening edition to bed. Raige attempts to protest, but Phoebe brusquely cuts her off to motor into the newsroom, where she issues a rapid-fire series of directives that, of course, leave everyone satisfied. Everyone but me, that is. Phoebe once again retreats to her office and locks the door, after which she and Raige clasp hands to orb out.
Manor Basement. Craven's henchdemons have carved a trench in the concrete floor. Zankou takes this opportunity to remind Craven of the Nexus's neutrality, and...thanks for that, you hot slice of Hellmeat, but I have been watching this show for seven seasons, you know, and I am also perfectly capable of remembering past plot points on my own. But it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Am I right? Craven expresses no small amount of fear in the face of the dread Woogy's "ultimate power," but Zankou just twinkles something snarkily dismissive before reciting the dread Woogy's summoning spell. Which is just as unintelligible now as it was the last time I heard it, when Cole was chanting the Craptin. However, in the interest of thoroughness, I replayed this bit eighteen times to provide you with the following:
Natum Ad A Necral
Dona In Tan La Noc
It's been a long, long time since I've had to decipher any Craptin on this show, but I do believe the above roughly translates as:
From Birth Unto Death,
Give Me The Friggin' Woogy.
The dread Woogy, incidentally, now looks like a murky, cloudy cross between its two earlier incarnations. I suppose that means it's The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy. In any case, The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy meanders out of the hole in the basement floor and seems to sniff at the air for a moment before lashing out and devouring whole the henchdemons who had opened the pit. Having thus sated itself for the time being, The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy retreats back into the trench. Zankou, irked, spouts, "Good must still be present in the Manor!" He quickly groks the fact that Piper's likely hiding somewhere, perhaps incapacitated. "So what do we do?" Craven dims. Zankou takes a moment to glare at him before spitting, "We find her, you fucking moron." Or maybe he just says the first part of that.
Nonexistent Attic. Piper and the Dolt have managed -- implausibly! -- to scale the Book's stand, and now intend to "tweak the scrying spell" so Phoebe and Raige can find them, and no, this makes no sense at all, because if they rewrite a spell in the Book, how in the hell is that supposed to help Phoebe and Raige over at...oh, wait a minute. They're going to tweak the spell so they can remotely operate the scrying crystal over at Not!warts. I get it! I hate it, but I get it. Piper asks the Dolt to step back a bit before tossing a little explosive mojo at the Book's pages, which obligingly flutter open to the correct entry. The henchdemons guarding the nonexistent room quite naturally appear alarmed at the Book's sudden flipping, but wordlessly attribute it to a breeze flowing through the open window, for they are just glorified extras who will not be receiving their SAG cards this evening. "I hope this works," Piper grits.
Not!warts. Raige and Phoebe stand a table, whipping up a batch of something or other as Phoebe wonders, title-style, if they "didn't scry hard enough." There's some blithering about Raige's discontent with her job until the nearby scrying crystal lofts itself seemingly of its own accord into the air and begins to spin above an open map of the city. Raige and Phoebe goggle at the phenomenon until the crystal finally slams down upon a set of coordinates that Raige quickly identifies as pointing towards the Manor itself. As scrying is "witch-to-witch stuff," Raige reasons, Piper must be sending them a message. "But the place is crawling with demons," Phoebe frets. "How are we gonna find her?" "One way to find out," Raige perks, grabbing Phoebe's hand to drag her into an orb cloud that vanishes through the ceiling.
Manor. Up on the second floor, a henchdemon passes by as the glow from Raige's orb cloud spills through the crack at the bottom of a bedroom door. Phoebe cautiously eases the door open and peers out before ducking back into the room to announce that they'll "have to get past the guard." Raige warns her that if they use any more magic, Zankou's bound to sense their presence. Phoebe has an idea.
Too late! HA! Suck it, Feebs! Down in the kitchen, Zankou informs Craven of Phoebe and Raige's recent arrival. Craven strokes his chin, smiles a bit, and shrugs that it doesn't matter: "We may have already found Piper."
Meanwhile, Phoebe's busily swinging from the bedroom door's upper casing to nail the second floor's henchdemon in the head with a two-heeled kick that knocks him unconscious to the carpeting. Phoebe and Raige immediately race to the nonexistent attic to abuse the Book of Shadows, physically rendering the attic guards comatose off-screen along their way, but when Phoebe calls out for her missing sister, she's answered by Zankou. He mischievously emerges from behind the attic's door, cradling a small wooden box in his arms. "Looking for these?" he smirks, easing open the lid. Raige and Phoebe get a glance at the box's contents before stonily eyeing Zankou, as the shot cuts to tiny Piper glaring at the wee Dolt before everyone disappears into the final commercial break.
Nonexistent Attic. Aftermath. Long story short, Zankou threatens to off Phoebe and Raige until they rather smugly note that he'll need the Power of Three to summon The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy successfully. For a moment, he thinks they're bluffing, but soon enough concedes their point over Craven's strenuous objections. Meanwhile, Piper and the Dolt engage in a heated exchange wherein Piper asserts that Zankou absorbing The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy will prove disastrous, while the Dolt assures her that The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy "won't know where to go." Some on the forums have raged about this, because it seems to imply that The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy is now just as neutral as the Nexus itself, despite earlier evidence that entity is, in fact, supremely evil. Point taken, but I think what the Dolt means is that, as Zankou and the Charmed Ones possess roughly equal amounts of power, The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy, in seeking to fuse itself with the strongest entity present, won't be able to make a choice. Works for me, anyway. Not that I particularly care one way or the other, mind you. Yawn. Zankou plucks tiny Piper from the box and, over her tinny little protests, threatens, "You try anything, and you will lose the love of your life." The lid of the box lowers ominously over the Dolt, plunging him into darkness.
Basement. The Glamorous Ladies lead the way down the stairs, quietly fretting about their current situation until Zankou, still holding the Dolt-In-A-Box, imperiously tosses them the summoning spell and orders them to recite it. The gals comply, and The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy soon emerges from his ditch. Just as the Dolt promised, the Woogyman tendrilly wavers between Zankou and the Manor Morons for a very long while before quite unexpectedly plunging into Zankou's Dolt-In-A-Box. Well, quite unexpectedly if you hadn't read the production company's episode description on the WB's website, which totally spoiled this ending, like, thanks for nothing, dicksmacks. "[Dolt]?" Piper uneasily breathes just seconds before the Dolt-In-A-Box detonates, spewing out a near-black cloud that quickly coagulates into Dolt form, and oh, Lord. I can't look at this. They've shoved black contacts into Brian Krause's eyes for this possession sequence, but that's fine. What's unwatchable are -- as usual -- Krause's facial expressions, which not only make the baby Jesus cry, but also make the baby Jesus kick puppies and rip the wings off butterflies. Right now, he's tensed every muscle in his lower face and neck so that his crusty lips are pulled down at the corners in an unsightly grimace, and the tendons surrounding his windpipe are popping out through his wattle. It's...it's...it's just too much for one recapper to bear, frankly. God, this show SUCKS.
"What have you done?" Zankou cries. For his trouble, Zankou receives a blast of smoke from the Doogyman's right hand that hurls him backwards through the air to the basement wall, where Zankou howls and wails as the Doogyman mojo tries and fails to consume him. During all of this, two of the henchdemons fling their boomerangs at the Doogy, but some sort of force field erupts, and the boomerangs bounce harmlessly off the Doogyman's chest. The Doogy eventually flings Zankou to the side in favor of vanquishing the henchdemons with twin blasts of smoke as the Glamorous Ladies look on in what appears to be mounting horror. The Doogy turns once more to Zankou and blasts him backwards up the stairs into the kitchen. "So close!" Zankou seethes as he rises to his feet under Craven's disapproving scowl. "I told you we shouldn't have trusted them," Craven snots. Zankou replies by conjuring a flaming ball of death that immolates the insolent Craven the second it hits his chest. "Never tell me 'I told you so,'" Zankou sneers as Craven vanishes towards The Waste Land. Zankou himself then flames out of the Manor just as the Doogyman leaps the remaining stairs from the basement.
The Doogyman darts his black eyes around the now empty kitchen as Piper and her sisters race up behind him. "[Dolt]?" Piper hesitantly begins. "[Dolt], you don't want this." The Doogyman, in a heavily processed tone of voice, simply states, "Say the spell." Piper recites the following, with Raige and Phoebe joining her for the last two lines:
I am light:
I am one too strong to fight,
So go away and leave my sight,
And take with you this endless night.
They omitted two Halliwell-specific lines Phoebe saw fit to include when ridding Cole of the entity two years ago, by the way, but for some reason neglected to switch the preexisting first-person pronouns over to their third-person masculine equivalents. Why? Because this show is ass. The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy bursts from the Dolt's body to plunge through the kitchen floor, eventually diving back down into the basement trench. The Dolt, meanwhile, has collapsed, but soon enough pushes himself up to offer the following explanation of recent events: "[The New New And Improved Non-Dread Non-Woogy] couldn't choose between Zankou's evil or the Power of Three, so it went to the only neutral territory -- me." And...I'll buy that, but only because it's late, and there are still five minutes left in this nonsensical episode. "See?" Piper smiles. "I told you it was a good thing you gave up your powers." The Dolt beams back at her -- like, shut UP, Dolt -- before the scene dissolves into the closing travelogue.
Which, quickly enough, scuttles us over to P3, where the usual thronging clot of dot-bomb yuppies has gathered for a live performance from tonight's guest testicles. Over in their private alcove, the Glamorous Ladies and the Dolt process through this evening's lessons, but only two bits of the sequence are of any importance. The first finds Elise Rothman, Girl Editor and her Dick among the crowd on the dance floor, grooving to the guest testicles, and it's just embarrassing for everyone involved when a woman of her age -- fifty -- takes it upon herself to flop and flail around a nightclub like that. Just stop it, Elise. I thought you had more dignity than that. ANY-way, the other important bit arrives at the very end, when the Dolt takes his glum leave to mop up the demonic mess back at the Manor while Raige skedaddles to finish her class schedules after sniping some more about how much she hates her job. Piper and Phoebe exchange the briefest of "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" looks before refocusing on the guest testicles. Said testicles howl themselves into yet another brief closing travelogue, which eventually deposits us in...
...The Not!warts Not-So-Great Hall. Mirroring their initial appearance at the top of the hour, Piper and the Dolt enter the room together, only this time it's Piper with her palm across the Dolt's eyes. "Surprise!" Piper chimes when she removes her hand, but the Dolt is even less impressed than she herself was in the nonexistent attic. "What, you want me to clean [Not!warts]?" he doofs. "No," Phoebe calls out as she and Raige enter from the headmistress's office, "we want you to run it." Because the Manor Morons have the authority to make such a decision. And because the Dolt's so experienced at administering a school. Not. To all of it. Shut the fuck up, Charmed. Raige is as surprised to hear all of this as the Dolt is, but when Piper and Phoebe explain their thinking, she quickly agrees to the plan. "I have been wanting to get out there and spread my legs," Raige perks. Ooops! Sorry! My bad. She actually said "spread my wings." Yeah, I know. Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Or something like that. The Dolt needs little further persuasion, and smilingly accepts with "I'm honored." And unqualified. And unauthorized. And a dolt. God, Elder Q's going to pitch a fit when he finds out about this. No one actually on my TV at the moment seems to share my qualms, however, as Raige orbs away to locate and nail her slampiece the second the Dolt agrees to assume control. Meanwhile, Piper and Phoebe grin broadly as the Dolt turns to scoop the suddenly appearing Psycho up in his arms and make with the babytalk as we finally fade to black.
week, they finally get around to exploiting the Pandora myth. Why it took them nearly seven years to do so is anyone's guess. Have fun!