Oh, hello, sundrenched Manor façade! The perverts responsible for this mess skipped the "Previously" segment this evening in favor of fading up directly on the house before darting inside to land on Piper, who's on the cordless in the kitchen, trying and failing to book a band for the suddenly failing -- again -- P3. The Dolt wiggles around in the background of the shot with a nine iron. When did the Dolt take up golf, you ask? When the typewriting crackmonkeys ran out of things for him to do and so began poaching Brian Krause's own off-screen hobbies for character points, of course. Piper angrily hangs up on her call and irritatedly shrieks something about P3 being "ice-cold" as far as bookers are concerned, despite the fact that it's only been "two months" since the events of last season's finale. Which occurred on or around Halloween, which means we are now at or around New Year's, which means I am once again writing this recap From The Future. Hooray! The president still sucks rocks a month and a half from now, in case you were wondering. As does this show. And The Producers wasn't all that, either, disappointingly enough, but Brokeback Mountain? Fabulous.
In any event, the Dolt kindly enough offers to speak with some "Smitty" person on Piper's behalf that afternoon out on the links. "Nah," Piper shakes her head, "I don't like that guy. He's slimy." Slimy, perhaps, the Dolt notes, "but he did get [Piper] The Donnas" about three thousand years ago. The Dolt is now waving the handle of his club around in Piper's face in rather a suggestive manner. Fortunately, I have not dreamt of the wrinkly, chimpanzee-faced lout since last week's tragic and disturbing nightmare, and so am appropriately disgusted by this action, rather than unnervingly charmed by same. Piper's of a different mind on the matter, apparently, for she eventually grins at all the teasing and smirks, "Fine. Let him win." The Dolt leans in for a quick kiss before he dolts on out of there, in the process passing a camisole-and-slacks-clad Raige, who's just now wandering in from the dining room. "I didn't know [the Dolt] golfed," she guhs on the audience's behalf. "Yeah, but not very well," Piper allows. "Don't tell him."
Piper takes a moment to examine Raige's top before wondering, "Why are you so dressed up?" and I have to assume she's being sarcastic here, because Raige is, as I've noted, sporting a flimsy undergarment and calling it a blouse, and I refuse to believe Piper's as stupid as her lippy bastard of a half-sister. Raige, retrieving a coffee cup from the cabinet near the sink, babbles something about the ever-useless Elders and a new charge -- another future Whitelightery type she's quite eager to meet, the implication in her tone indicating that she's horny and hopes to get some from the new guy. Which I guess explains the lingerie-as-outerwear look she's going for this morning. Phoebe jiggles in at this point to rant about Piper never answering call waiting, or some such nonsense, as Agent Murphy's been trying repeatedly to contact them, evidently. "He's got a case for us," she carefully enunciates as she grabs a mug of her own. Raige plants a fist on her hip and snots, "A case? What are we, Charlie's Witches? We don't work for him." And I've said it before but I'll say it again: Get some new material, Raige. Four years ago. "He seems to think that we do," Phoebe grunts, ignoring me, as is her wont, "especially after reminding me over and over that he bailed us out of our little jam," and you know what? I just realized I've been happily typing away here, covering line after line of the sort of normally tedious expository blather I'd been skipping thus far this year, and I'm almost certain it's because we've seen neither embarrassingly clad hide nor hideously bleached-out hair of The Retarded Bimbo in the one and a half minutes since this episode began, which I believe hasn't happened since the season premiere. They really do need to fire her talentless ass, don't they? And then of course they need to cancel this shit for good, but that goes without saying, I'm sure.
Anyway, Piper responds to Phoebe's news with a mock-outraged, "That's blackmail!" "That's your taxpayer dollars at work," Phoebe counters grimly. Raige, mindful of her new charge and the possibility of brain-blowing sex said charge carries with him, bails. Or attempts to, at any rate. Phoebe immediately yodels, "You are not dumping this in my lap! I am very busy too! I have dates! Lots and lots of dates!" Mugs pulls this hysterical stink-face in reaction to Phoebe's crass, hag-ass self-centeredness as Piper gets a nastily teasing glint in her eye and too carefully inquires, "Are you trying to get pregnant again?" Heh. Piper, you bitch. Hee. "No," Phoebe pouts, "I'm trying to find love, so I don't have any more time than you guys do to go through cold cases." Raige, who'd maintained her massive stink-face throughout Phoebe's little self-serving tirade, drops it at the mention of Murphy's cold case files and wonders what gives with all that. Phoebe explains that the good agent has a backlog of murders and disappearances and such that he believes are supernaturally related, and he expects the Glamorous Ladies to paw through the boxes to see if they can find anything. "How many boxes?" Piper sings.
Why, an entire warehouse full, doll, as she, Phoebe, and the audience learn when the shot cuts over to a cadaverous lesser Homeland Security agent sliding open a huge set of metal doors to reveal stack after stack of yellowing, dust-encrusted cardboard containers lining the shelves of some out-of-the-way government storage facility. "You have got to be kidding me!" Piper howls, gazing upon the scene with Phoebe in dismay. The ladies gape their collective way into the opening credits.
"Agent Murphy says he wants you to start with these," the cadaverous gentleman exposits as he leads Piper and Phoebe deeper into the warehouse, adding, "They're rated Para-7 Suspicion and higher." "Para-7 Suspicion"? Whatever, corpse man. Piper has much the same reaction as I just did, which Special Agent Wormfood ignores in favor of reminding them to wear gloves so as not to contaminate the evidence. And with that, he crosses to shut the doors, leaving the two outraged Ps to their own devices. "This can't be legal!" Piper gripes as I attempt and fail to ignore the name of tonight's "Special [Guest Ovary]" at P3. Oh, Liz! Darling, if you told me that your only two options for getting yet another one of your songs featured on this show for free were blowing Brad Kern or actually appearing onstage at Piper's stupid nightclub, I'd have told you to break out the kneepads. Well, we'll deal with this disheartening development later, I suppose, though it is nice to know there will be no suspense involved in Piper's boring little P3 subplot at all this evening, which also means I can skim through those scenes. Unless, of course, their complete lack of Retarded Bimbosity makes them as almost-enjoyable to watch as the episode thus far. Seriously, you people. Fire Kaley Cuoco already. She sucks, and she's dragging down what wasn't a terribly good show to begin with. Yick.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: Alyssa Milano launches herself into some mildly amusing shtick involving the latex gloves and Phoebe's inability to wrestle her hands into the same, but come on, Lyssie. You expect us to believe Phoebe has a problem wrapping human appendages in latex now? After seven and a half years? Pull the other one. No, not like that. Ew. I meant leg -- you know, "Pull the other leg." No, not that leg, you skank. Jesus! ANY-way, Piper and Phoebe piss and moan at each other regarding the task before them for a bit until Piper's cell rings. "Don't you get that!" Phoebe warns, dark threats of grievous bodily injury flooding her tone. Piper answers it anyway. Heh. It's the Dolt, apparently, calling to organize a meet-and-greet with that Smitty person over at the club. Piper immediately agrees and snaps shut her phone while Phoebe grouches about Piper ditching out on her, or something. She's still struggling with the latex, by the way, but abandons that when Piper reminds her, "You should probably leave those off because you'll get a premonition easier without them." Excellent point, Phoebe, you dumbass. Piper scuttles through the exit while Phoebe exaggeratedly snaps off the one glove she'd managed to get halfway down her fingers during this scene. "Ow!" she bleats when the thing stings her other hand. Who the hell are these moderately entertaining people, and where the hell have they been all season?
We cut from Phoebe's comic grimace over to the Not!warts Not-So-Great Hall, where we find Kappa Kappa Klea storming into the room to rage, "I need more power!" Yes, Jennifer Tung's back, playing an entirely different character this evening than she was the last time we saw her nearly five years ago. I'll be taking a page from The Done One's book on the forum boards, and shall refer to this character as "Zeta Zeta Zira." Actually, it'll be "ZZZ" for short, because her subplot is indeed that boring. Incidentally, Tung's dropped an awful lot of weight since her last appearance, and she's looking rather harsh and pinched as a result. Shame, really, for she really was quite striking the last time around. Well, from what I remember, of course, because that particular hour was a sleeping pill in episode form, but whatever. ZZZ clomps over to a dorky-looking henchdemon who's positioned himself over a bubbling cauldron so she might tear the guy a new one for taking so long to complete his vaguely specified task. She's tired of being beholden "to that brute," you see, and is "getting restless," whatever all that means. Just then, That Brute squiggles into the room with a quartet of his own henchdemons to sneer, "Where's the potion -- why isn't it ready yet?" The instantly obsequious ZZZ assures her boss that she has the matter well in hand, addressing said boss as "Tai" as she does so. That Brute mutters something threatening before stalking out of the room, his little henchdemons trailing after him all in a row. ZZZ drops the groveling act the instant he's gone to reveal tonight's Nefarious Demonic Plot For Underworld Domination: Basically, she's going to off That Brute "and every last male demon" so she might assume control of Hell for herself. Yeah, not gonna work at all, but the henchdork does have the good sense to look more than a little worried about that whole kill-all-the-male-demons bit of ZZZ's speechifying. Heh. Jennifer Tung gets all crazy-eyed and intense right before the shot cuts over to...
...The Retarded Bimbo blowing bubblegum during a lecture at her stupid college, and my interest in this episode just plummeted. She sucks. So does her professor, who's nattering on about "the battle of the sexes" and how "The Yin/Yang Theory" explains why men and women don't kill each other, and this entire sequence is stupid and annoying and insulting and dull. Basically, The Retard makes it clear that, for some reason about which I could not care less if I tried, she hates men and believes the world would be better off without them. Just go with it. After that, her cell rings, and it's Phoebe, calling from the warehouse, so The Retard bails on the lecture, despite the fact that she's got a midterm in the class that same day, and this whole Yin-Yang crap is supposed to be on that stupid fucking midterm, and I so do not care, because this show blows, and I want to die, and look at that! The camera, evidently caring as little for The Retard's subplot as I do, has transported us over to P3, where Holly Marie Combs has been given the thankless task of advancing this evening's asinine "Men Are Entirely Unnecessary" theme via the scene she's currently sharing with the Dolt's friend in the music industry. Long story short, This Smitty Person's a sexist pig, and Piper's about to deploy the Mighty Hands Of Discontent on his worthless ass when the Dolt steps in to hustle Smitty from the club. By the way, Piper had proposed in the middle of all that to attract a "headliner" by throwing a Hurricane Katrina benefit which, you know, since we're two months past the events of last season's finale, she should have done three and a half months ago, when the images from New Orleans were still top-of-mind for all of the monstrously self-serving trendoid Bay-Area yuppies her club tends to attract. Just saying. Are we done here? Yeah, it's over.
Meanwhile, back at the warehouse, Phoebe's blowing the dust off a pair of boxing gloves while hagging something into her cell phone about the separate coffee and dinner dates she has scheduled for later that afternoon. Raige, wearing nothing more than her flimsy camisole top and fluttery black slacks, outdoors, in San Francisco, in January, is on the other end of the line, standing in the middle of a graffiti- and garbage-infested "Skid Row," waiting for her charge to appear. By the way, Raige has donned her favorite pair of oversized Jackie O sunglasses to appear less conspicuous, and yeah. They're working as well as they did the last time we saw them, which is to say not at all. Long story short, her new, teenaged (aw! No sex for Raige! I hope) charge is "at a crossroads," and Raige is "supposed to help him figure out how to make the right choice." When the charge starts getting roughed up by the "felon" -- Raige's word, not mine -- he'd been chatting to, Raige cuts the call short to intervene, much to Phoebe's outraged aggravation. Over in the alleyway with the charge and the felon, career criminal "Donnie" warns future Whitelighter "Speed" that, should the latter not "drive," he'll find himself in a world of pain, or something. They're not being terribly forthcoming with the relevant details, I must admit. Raige hustles over to chase Donnie away, and it works. Despite the fact that he looks like he could snap her scrawny white neck like a twig with one flick of his wrist and the fact that she's dressed like a moderately priced call-girl at the moment.
There follows a tiresome exchange between Raige and Speedle Dee Dee until the latter takes off down the sidewalk when a battered brown sedan squeals around the far corner. Speedle Dee Dee attempts to scale a chain-link fence, but the sedan's driver rams his ancient bumper into the fence's base, knocking Speedle Dee Dee onto his back on the car's hood. The leather-jacketed driver leaps from the front seat, and it's Ivan Sergei, and believe it or not, he's remarkably non-annoying during the brief scene that follows. Ivan yanks Speedle Dee Dee off the car's hood and slams the kid against the fence to frisk him for weapons while Raige clatters up from behind to yell about calling the police and such. Ivan tosses Speedle Dee Dee back onto the hood and, right before he cuffs the juvenile delinquent, flashes Raige a badge. "You're a parole officer?" she bleats. "Look at that," Ivan snarks as he pushes the now-manacled Speedle Dee Dee towards the back seat of the car, "your girlfriend can read!" Heh. After Ivan's flipped Speedle Dee Dee into the car and slammed shut the door, he pauses, eyes Raige up and down for a second, and offers her the following piece of advice: "I wouldn't hang around down here, lady, if I were you." He glances at her camisole and pointedly adds, "Not dressed like that." Hee. Raige gets all flustered as Ivan slides back behind the wheel of his trashy sedan and peels on out of there. Raige, as subtly as she can -- which isn't terribly subtly at all, of course -- edges out of the frame. That was a fun scene.
And it's followed by a scene that is the exact opposite of fun, as this one prominently features the oddly proportioned and maggoty-necked Retarded Bimbo that they need to fire RIGHT NOW. Ahem. Back at the warehouse, the begloved Retard blows dust off a pair of glasses, and as I simply cannot bear listening to a single goddamned word that flies out of her crooked, overly glossed, and lispy fucking mouth, I'll be skipping over her whole boy-bashing monologue to get to the point where she finds a tacky golden belt stowed away amongst the various other pieces of evidence. She foolishly snaps the thing around her waist and is instantly morphed into this episode's version of superheroine slutwear: A taut, belly-baring teal pleather bustier that barely snaps shut in the front, with matching wristbands and collar, all over a black pleather miniskirt. We can't yet see them, but I already know the accompanying dominatrix boots are hideous. Her frightfully damaged hair, by the way, has been tightly braided into three massive faux-cornrows, and it's just disgusting. The Retard glances down at herself and yowls, "What just happened?" "We're screwed," Phoebe grumps. "That's what just happened." The Retard austistically flaps her hands into the commercial break.
OH MY GOD, SHUT UP, PHOEBE. The hag in question has thrown herself into an unbearably selfish monologue about Piper taking the car and Raige never being there when a gal needs an orb, or something like that, as she ambles down a sidewalk on the Paramount backlot with the ludicrously attired Retarded Bimbo, who's drawing catcalls and sneers from various passersby while she tries and fails to unhook the tacky golden belt from around her waist, and you two hideously stupid morons can flag down a goddamned cab at any time now. No? Fine, then. In that case, I'll just ignore everything that follows to note that The Retard does have the good grace to look thoroughly mortified by the entire experience, but from what I've heard through the grapevine, that's actually more Kaley Cuoco's embarrassment than the character's. She evidently burst into tears when she first saw what the perverted producers intended her to wear for this episode, and I did feel sorry for her when I read about that. Then I remembered the obscene amount of money she's being paid for all of this, and I decided Kaley Cuoco can just suck it the fuck up and knock it off with the fucking bitching. The Retard's expected knee-high boots, by the way, are actually more Ilsa, She Wolf Of The SS than Doris The Dominatrix, and the mid-thigh mini she's sporting features gold racing stripes down the sides. In any event, Phoebe mentions her own past transformations into mermaid, mummy, and genie, and if I'm remembering them correctly, none were exactly her fault the way The Retard's to blame for her own predicament this evening, but whatever. After some random jackass on the street yells, "Hey, Superhero Babe!" The Retard cringes and pouts, "Someone please vanquish me now!" Bitch, the audience has been screaming for that for the last seven episodes. Zip it. Phoebe finally -- finally -- hails a cab, but the stupid Retard rips the back door off with her newfound superstrength, so the two idiots race off down the sidewalk on foot.
Meanwhile, back at Not!warts, ZZZ's henchdork chugs into the Not-So-Great Hall with an ancient tome and the fabulous news that "a dormant power's just been activated." He rushes to her side to display the book's entry on "The Golden Belt Of Gaea." The entry itself reads, "The Goddesses' [sic] gift to Hippolytal [sic] endows woman wearing it [sic] with transcendent powers." They're not even trying anymore, are they? And then ZZZ pronounces the Amazon's name as "HIP-o-LEE-ta." God, this show sucks. "How do I get it?" ZZZ demands. "Trust me," the henchdork replies, "you don't want it. It would destroy you the moment you put it on." "You're evil," he reminds her, but he does argue that ZZZ could still "appropriate" the tacky belt's powers by convincing The Retarded Bimbo to do her bidding. The tacky belt, you see, compels the person it possesses to deploy its overwhelming power, whether the possessed wants to or not. It eventually drives the woman wearing it insane, but if ZZZ can intervene before that happens, she might be able to have The Retard off That Brute. See what I meant about the tediousness of this subplot? ZZZ, nevertheless, is way stoked, and growls, "How do we find her?"
Well, she sure as hell isn't here, hon, which is actually Trudeau Memorial, formerly Andy's House Of Beef, formerly The Loneliest Precinct House In The World. Raige storms in to scream at Ivan for nearly running her down at the close of their earlier scene, but that's not important. Nor is the fact that Ivan Sergei's still not annoying me and is, in fact, the most charismatic guest actor they've had on this show since Oded Fehr -- pre-stupidification of his character, of course. No, what completely fucking rocks here is the random and utterly silent extra who sits in the chair beside Ivan's desk. She's tarted up just enough to resemble a common prostitute, and she takes in Raige's appearance with a slow, withering once-over before shooting her this look, all, "I obviously take in a fraction of the cash you clear and yet somehow, I'm the one who's better dressed, trash." It is, indeed, a deeply awesome moment, and by far the most entertaining of the evening. Hee. In any event, what follows between Raige and Ivan isn't terribly important as far as the overall storyline is concerned, but Sergei does act his little heart out with it all, and in the process drags McGowan up from the depths of her twitchery and mugging to engage her in a scene for what seems to be the first time this season, so it's enjoyable enough to watch. Basically, we learn that Speedle Dee Dee's just turned eighteen, so if he screws up again, he's going straight to the big-boy jail. Oh, and Raige explains her interest in the case by pulling out her Homeland Security credentials, which Ivan clearly believes to be bullshit, but he doesn't call her on it at the moment. And...scene? Yeah. Scene. With one pricelessly awesome moment.
Manor, and this is just repugnant. Piper, heretofore thoroughly level-headed as far as her business was concerned, has inexplicably been turned into a paranoid, irrational shrew just so the typewriting crackmonkeys can connect her subplot with the assery currently surrounding The Retarded Bimbo. Long story short, she'd sooner see P3 fall into bankruptcy than deal with That Smitty Person again. The Dolt attempts to reason with her, but there's no reason to be had, because Piper must become as brainless as the other idiot women in this episode to retain her overall relevance to the plot. Or something like that. I don't care, and I care even less when The Retarded Bimbo literally rips the front door off its hinges when she enters from the porch with the Feebs. The Manor Morons fret their way into the center parlor, where the Dolt recognizes the tacky belt for what it truly is. He, too, mispronounces Hippolyta's name, by the way, but that doesn't matter, because The Retard suddenly makes the connection between the Hippolyta of her tacky belt and the one who was butchered by Hercules. "That's just great!" howls The Retard, gesticulating wildly. Something about all this causes the Dolt to flare red and disappear. "Why'd you go and do that?" Piper shrills. "Who's gonna go pick up the kids?" You dim bitch. For all you know, The Retard just vanquished your husband, and that's how you react? Whatever. WHATEVER! Moving on: InvisiDolt instantly bleats, "What do you mean?" so we know he's actually okay. Still. Why you gotta be so stoopid, Piper? "[Dolt]," Phoebe demands, "look at yourself." There's a pause, and then Brian Krause makes me giggle by letting loose a long, low, "Ohhhhhhh!" Heh. After a bit of belt-related stupidity, Phoebe and The Retard exit upwards to abuse the Book of Shadows for a solution, leaving Piper and InvisiDolt alone in the center parlor to hash through information of which the audience is already aware, thanks to that earlier scene between ZZZ and her henchdork at Not!warts. And after a bit of InvisiDolt-related stupidity, the camera cuts over to...
...the same dank and forbidding alleyway I recall from the pre-credits sequence of "Charrrmed!" Minus, you know, the lesbian, the pirate, the whistling, and the fog. ZZZ leads That Brute and his henchdemons down the asphalt, babbling about the tacky belt the entire time, and suddenly that episode with the pirates is looking pretty damn good. Why on earth did I give it a D? I mean, aside from the fact that I couldn't possibly at the time have imagined that this show would get any worse. And then it did. Sigh. Anyway, ZZZ plays upon That Brute's male vanity, or something, and convinces him to torture a female innocent in order to lure the tacky belt's current owner into the dank and forbidding alleyway, whereupon That Brute and the henchdemons can slaughter The Retard and return to the Underworld with the tacky belt as a prize. Or whatever. I so totally don't care. ZZZ squiggles away "to prepare for the belt's arrival" for some senseless reason before we cut back over to...
...the nonexistent attic, for a brief scene in which it becomes apparent that The Retard's fallen under the spell of her tacky accessory. She receives a "call" and superspeeds on out of there...
...through the main hallway and past the broken front door -- which InvisiDolt had been shimmying back into place, despite the fact that anyone ambling by on Prescott Street below could have looked up and seen a goddamned door floating around in the air seemingly of its own accord, because absolutely everyone on this show is an abject moron -- in the process knocking InvisiDolt and door to the floor, where InvisiDolt feebly cries for help. Are we done with this shit yet?
Dammit! Meanwhile, over in Pirate Alley, That Brute and his henchdemons have cornered a tiny blonde thing we last saw squeezed into little more than a blazing corset way back during "Show Ghouls." As the actress is a professional gymnast, I'm guessing she was the doxy who took the slow-motion header over the exploding balcony in that episode, and she puts those same somersaulting skills to use here as she flips through one dodge after another as That Brute and his henchdemons unleash spray after spray of sporking electricity in her general direction. Eventually, Supertard arrives on the scene to make with the unbearably lispy threats. Asshole. That Brute tosses a bolt at Supertard's head, but she deflects the thing with a bit of the tacky accessory's power, or whatever, and it ricochets back to vanquish all three of the henchdemons. Supertard then hurls a lightning bolt of her own at That Brute's shoulder, winging the demon and forcing him to squiggle away in a strategic retreat. Supertard simpers something asinine that makes me want to snatch her up by her maggoty throat and throttle her all the way into the commercial break. Talent-free mutant FROM HELL.
Manor. Piper and Phoebe lean the busted front door up against the wall as InvisiDolt grumbles something about his sad state of affairs before Supertard superspeeds back into the hallway, in the process knocking that damned door back to the floor. Supertard then mewls something inane about "scratching [her] pretty belt," and I want to die. Long story short, the belt flares up to infect Piper and the Feebs with a bit of its male-bashing mojo, and the ladies react accordingly. InvisiDolt issues an appropriate warning which goes unheeded as the much-abused grandfather clock chimes the hour, which reminds Supertard of her mindbendingly nonsensical midterm for whatever reason. Supertard prepares to superspeed on out of there. Before she leaves, however, Piper, ever mindful of her nightclub's need for a Special Guest Ovary that evening, convinces Supertard to reverse the invisibility thing, as InvisiDolt does have that golf date to attend later that afternoon. Once Supertard's vanished, the effects upon the Manor Morons of her tacky accessory wane, and the ladies realize something wacky's afoot in Halliwell Manor. They determine to stop The Retarded Bimbo, whatever the cost. Or something like that. Yawn.
Not!warts. ZZZ and the henchdork and zzzzzzzzzz. The henchdork intends to lure Supertard to the now-defunct school. I think. Whatever. !
Over in Speedle Dee Dee's decrepit apartment, Raige nosily snoops around a bit until Ivan shows up, and the sparks fly between the two until Ivan reveals that Speedle Dee Dee missed his four o'clock check-in, which means that Donnie prevailed upon Speedle Dee Dee to aid and abet in a liquor store heist that the police already know about. Raige insists Speedle Dee Dee would never agree to such a thing, so Ivan bets her a twenty that they'll find Speedle Dee Dee in the company of thieves. Raige is all, "You're on!" and so the two exit, with Ivan slamming the door shut behind them. And I wasn't kidding about the whole sparks-flying thing. These two really are pretty damn good together. Pity we have to head back into...
...Supertard's subplot for the imbecilic scene that follows. Briefly, Supertard arrives for her ludicrous midterm forty minutes late, dressed like a hooker. Naturally, her professor is most displeased, so Supertard gets all up in his face to insult him in front of the entire class, in the process activating her awful belt's stupid mojo, which sends each and every woman in the room into a frat-boy-bashing frenzy, and I hate this show, and I want to die, but unfortunately, I must follow Supertard out into the hall where she encounters ZZZ while attempting to escape the mayhem she's caused in the classroom, and God, I hate this show. ZZZ, with a few soothing words, convinces Supertard to accompany her, and leads the oddly proportioned and lispy piece of human garbage into the commercial break.
Manor. Phoebe and Piper, returning from Supertard's campus, join the Dolt in the main hall for a processing summit. They eventually determine...what they've already determined before, actually. In short, Supertard's to be contained until they can figure out a way to release her from the tacky belt. Meanwhile, the Dolt's to keep his golf date with That Smitty Person, because Piper still needs to book a Special Guest Ovary for the club that evening. Piper pecks the Dolt on the lips before disappearing upstairs with the Feebs. The Dolt putters around for a bit, looking thoroughly bored with the entire proceedings, until the screen flares white to dump us over in...
...Not!warts. ZZZ feeds Supertard some seemingly endless line of bullshit about "Female Utopia" that Supertard promptly devours whole, because she is a maggoty-necked pinhead. The henchdork darkly warns ZZZ of Supertard's rapidly failing health, but ZZZ couldn't give a rat's ass. As long as Supertard remains alive long enough to vanquish That Brute, all will be well in ZZZ's world. ZZZ wiggles her eyebrows around menacingly until the screen flares white again to whisk us over to...
..."Skid Row," where Raige squirms around in the front seat of Ivan's battered sedan, because she has to pee. Yes, the current state of Raige's bladder has become a plot point in this wicked episode. No matter, really, because the two of them are still playing so well off each other that I'm willing to overlook that sordid bit of tastelessness, especially when Ivan playfully offers her a bottle to whiz in, promising not to look. Heh. By the way, there are two crumpled twenties sitting atop the sedan's dashboard, so do yourself a favor and ignore all subsequent references these two make to the bet and how they intend to pay it off should either one of them lose. Also, Ivan Sergei spends the entire scene tipping a jar of mixed nuts into his mouth and chewing his way through his lines, so it's clear he understands exactly how unimportant those lines actually are, which makes me love him a little bit. It's also clear he's quite skilled in the art of Acting With Props, so he's got that going for him as well. The two banter about their current stake-out for a bit before the chatter on the police radio heralds the arrival of Speedle Dee Dee and Donnie in an SUV. Ivan grumps something about Speedle Dee Dee that Raige counters with a plea for patience and faith, eliciting an amusing "girl, please" look from Ivan as he caps his nuts and tugs out his automatic, which sounds sort of dirty but really, really isn't. Meanwhile, over in the SUV, Speedle Dee Dee's having second thoughts, much to Donnie's annoyance. Yawn. Once their armed and presumably dangerous associates have exited the vehicle for the liquor store, an argument erupts between the co-conspirators, with Donnie eventually whipping out a switchblade after Speedle Dee Dee balks at pulling the SUV around to the front of the store. When the alarm goes off inside, Speedle Dee Dee moves to push himself out of the getaway car. Donnie lunges at him with the knife, but apparently only manages to slash a small gash in Speedle Dee Dee's side before Donnie, too, decides to flee. Uniformed cops arrive to take down the actual robbers -- in a decidedly non-violent manner, naturally -- as Ivan jumps from his battered sedan to chase after Speedle Dee Dee, followed closely by Raige. Speedle Dee Dee, of course, has long since disappeared. "You owe me twenty bucks," Ivan growls, and no, because see above reference to the cash on the dashboard. Don't make me hurt you, dude.
Manor. Night has fallen, and up in the nonexistent attic, Phoebe's scrying fruitlessly for Supertard while Piper arranges a few Mystical Crysticals on the carpet in the blurry background of the shot. Eventually, Piper decides to use the "To Call A Lost Witch" spell -- minus the appropriate props, natch -- to drag Supertard back to the Manor, so the two ladies head over to the Book of Shadows to read the following aloud:
Power of the witches rise:
Course unseen across the skies.
Come to us who call you near --
Come to us and settle here.
Supertard instantly arrives on the carpet in a mix of the blurry flashes they've been using for her superspeed this evening and the more traditional swirling cloud of glowing golf balls. She's pissed, but I've wanted her dead since the first episode of the season, so I don't care. Piper and Phoebe too casually amble over to the carpet, where Piper surreptitiously lets go of the final Crystical, closing the circle on the floor and activating the cage. The cage which Supertard instantly screams her way out of, because Supertard is apparently more powerful than The Source Of All Evil, in any of its forms, ever was. I hate this stupid show. And then, just to piss me off EVEN MORE, Supertard lisps, "There'ssss no wrath like a woman sssscorned." AUAAUAUAAAAGH. IDIOTS! Supertard superspeeds out of there, Piper snorts something snippy about the mess Supertard left behind, and then we fly back over to Not!warts, where Supertard announces, "[ZZZ]? I'm all yours," before vanishing into the commercial break.
Manor. Aftermath. The Dolt arrives home from his golf date as Piper and Phoebe arrive on the main floor from above and, long story short, the Dolt convinces the gals that a trip to Not!warts is in order, as the spell to remove the belt from Supertard will likely be found in one of the library's books. How the Dolt or the ladies knew Supertard was at Not!warts in the first place, I'll never know. Nor will I ever care. "It's gonna be pretty tough getting by her unseen," Piper opines. "I think 'unseen' is the answer," the recently invisible Dolt duuuuuhs. Seriously. When did Piper become such a dumbass that the Dolt, of all people, is out-thinking her? Shut up, show.
Rose McGowan And Ivan Sergei's Far More Enjoyable Subplot That Unfortunately Has Nothing To Do With Anything Else This Evening. Speedle Dee Dee arrives at his darkened apartment, only to get tossed up against the wall and cuffed by Ivan for violating his parole. Raige notices the blood on Speedle Dee Dee's shirt and convinces Ivan to investigate Speedle Dee Dee's version of events, as said version will exonerate Speedle Dee Dee of any wrongdoing should it prove true. Ivan reluctantly agrees, but manhandles Speedle Dee Dee on out of there anyway. I apologize for giving all this such short shrift, because it continues to be well-played by everyone involved (yes, including Arjay Smith, the dude portraying the ridiculously-named Speed), but it really doesn't have anything to do with anything else that's going on tonight. It's as if they yanked it all from a far-superior Raige-centered episode, hacked the thing to pieces, and dumped what remained into this Retard-related crapfest. They seriously need to off The Bimbo now and get back to stuff like this, and I'm not just saying that because I hate Kaley Cuoco. Well, okay, I'm saying that entirely because I hate Kaley Cuoco, and I don't think I can take fourteen more episodes of her talent-free ass gobbling up the entire hour's worth of screentime, but seriously. Aside from the scene-appropriate mugging at the top of the hour, Rose McGowan hasn't relied upon a single one of the annoying tics she developed over the last year and a half -- tics that blew up to swallow her entire set of performances this season thus far. See what happens when you give her an engaging partner and even a moderately considered storyline, assholes?
Anyway. Whatever. Like I care. Back at Not!warts, Supertard finally kills That Brute. As InvisiDolt sneaks over to the bookshelf -- we can see his footprints tracking across the marble floor, as he's foolishly blundered through some spilt potion -- Supertard takes out ZZZ's henchdork. I so don't care about any of these people. While InvisiDolt searches for the appropriate spell, Supertard collapses into a chair, all panty and sweating and gross. ZZZ kneels at Supertard's side to croon something unimportant as Piper, Phoebe, and Raige arrive -- and where the hell Raige came from, I'll never know -- to make with the quippy remarks. InvisiDolt wiggles a book around at the far side of the room, catching the eye of Raige, who promptly summons the thing into her own arms with her orbing telekinesis. ZZZ screams at Supertard to kill the Charmed Ones, but before Supertard gets a chance to do much of anything at all, InvisiDolt's tackled her ungainly ass to the floor, where he shouts, "Say the damn spell!" Really, Dolt. Such language. Piper needs to wash your fucking mouth out with soap when you get back to the Manor. Raige, heeding InvisiDolt's cry, calls out the following alone:
For all the world
To work as one
In harmony,
It must be undone.
The tacky belt drops to the floor, and Supertard promptly morphs back into Regular 'Tard form. Raige deploys the orbing telekinesis to snap the belt around Zeta Zeta Zira's waist. "Uh oh," ZZZ whimpers right before she erupts in a spray of black demonic shards. Bye-bye, Jennifer Tung. Maybe we'll see you again in Season Thirteen. Not. EVER. Piper flips a vial of green potion into InvisiDolt's chest -- and no, I don't know how she knows where he's standing, so don't ask -- and he reappears so Brian Krause and Holly Marie Combs can make with the cute banter and the kissy faces and such, because they only have one more episode in which to enjoy each other's company before Brad Kern kills Krause's character off. Or something like that. The Retarded Bimbo silently resolves her Issue Of The Week that I never cared about while Phoebe and Raige grin.
Meanwhile, over in the hallway at Trudeau Memorial, formerly Andy's House Of Beef, formerly The Loneliest Precinct House In The World -- which is really the hallway for All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, and I really hate this show -- Ivan's figured out that Speedle Dee Dee was telling the truth, and so he lets the kid go. By the way, Ivan's character's name is "Henry," and that won't do at all, now will it? And...scene.
Manor. Up in the Prue Halliwell Memorial Bimbo Boudoir Of Paisley Tit Slings And Other Fashion Atrocities, currently occupied by Raige -- where, incidentally, a half-finished painting sits on an easel near her dressing table, like, when the hell did they remember she's supposed to be an artist? -- the current mistress of the boudoir flips around on her bed in the darkened room to answer her cell. It's Ivan, calling both to fill her in on Speedle Dee Dee's release and to thank her for her help that day. There's also a delightfully flirtatious undercurrent to the entire conversation that neither character, for a refreshing change, acknowledges verbally. Each, however, is clearly enamored of the other in his or her own way. After a lengthy pause in the talking during which both parties grin like fools, Ivan eventually thanks Raige once more and hangs up. Raige all but giggles to herself and buries herself beneath her duvet.
Meanwhile, over in an overcrowded P3, Piper and Phoebe push their way past the bar to...join The Retarded Bimbo on The Official Halliwell Club Couch for The Weekly Summation? Blasphemy! Outrage! Scandal! Yawn! Still, that dim bitch gets a seat on the Club Couch while Raige is banished to the Manor for this closing scene? Blow me, show. And after The Weekly Summation regarding a Retard Issue I never, ever cared about? We arrive at the Oh, Liz! portion of this evening's festivities, wherein onetime indie darling Liz Phair at long last sheds the final, tattered remnants of her once-formidable credibility by appearing on this show. It's sad. It's also annoying as hell, because the song she's singing blows, and the camera spends most of the time bouncing between The Retarded Bimbo and some random guy she's flirting with from across the room. But I don't really care much one way or the other, because I never recap P3 performances, so hooray! The episode's over!
week: More raging stupidity when the Glamorous Idiots get transformed into actual lady wrestlers. Don't ask. God, this show sucks!