And the next thing you know, Christy's nuptials are already in progress. So they cut that whole scene where Phoebe and Raige convince the Dolt to attend the wedding? Pity. Not. White-Bread Wonderlass Christy Peters is marrying Hunka-Hunka-Curry-Love Javeen Anand in a solemn-yet-"romantic" Hindu ceremony set beneath a gaily decorated canopy in the middle of a park. Out in the parking lot, the Dolt swings the Grand Cherokee over to the valet station, and the tardy wedding-bound Manor Morons tumble out of the car. "I don't understand why you couldn't leave the baby with [Raige]," Phoebe shrills. "When you're a mother, you'll understand," Piper snaps as she toddles over with the Tiny Gay Chris in question. "That's assuming I'm gonna have any eggs left," Phoebe sniffs as she assists the Dolt with the stroller. No, that's assuming you'll ever ingest enough food to ovulate again, you skeletal shrew. Yeesh. The Dolt's cleaned up considerably, though God knows when he found the time to do so, but I don't care, because this episode sucks, and I hate this show, and I want to die. Piper's also changed clothes and now sports a loose-fitting, gauzy black number. In case you were wondering, which you weren't, because this episode sucks, and you hate it, and you want to die, and shouldn't we have had a commercial break, like, an hour ago? Anyway, Piper, ever the neurotic martyr, immediately whips out her cell to check on the Psycho. Phoebe yanks the phone out of her sister's hand and rather meanly suggests she see a shrink. Piper's all, "Been there, done that," as the three troop over to a...what is the point of this scene? Anyone? Seriously. Because I've watched it five times already, and I still can't figure it out. Tiny Gay Chris, sensing my irritation, draws a tired, bitter hand across his wee face and wails. Piper and the Dolt whatever and pointless and boring! and Phoebe finally pushes the two formerly marrieds into the ceremony. She intends to remain with the squalling, shamefully neglected infant while his parents have fun inside.
Piper and the Dolt manage to hustle into a pair of chairs at the back of the, um, congregation, or whatever, just as the closed captioning people give up entirely on the Hindi vows and instead fill the bottom of my TV screen with strings of letters like, "VARYHANANNAGHANA BABAGANOUSH BABALOO." The formerly marrieds smirk at each other, no doubt contemplating the galling connubial hell that awaits Christy and Jeevan after the ceremony.