Chez Raige. The lady of the house sits on her loveseat. The Road Kill paces about adoringly. Eventually he kneels, then sits at her side, and they whisper rash-inducing clichés at each other. She can't believe he's real. He wants "to take [her] away from all of this." "True love is falling under someone's spell." Barf. He tells her to wish for anything and he'll make sure it comes true. She lames something about being as good as Prue. Road Kill doesn't get it. She tells him to forget about it, and they lean in for a kiss. Raige has no taste. Road Kill looks like he just endured a botched rhinoplasty. Before they lock lips, Piper, Phoebe, and the Dolt orb in. Piper freezes the Road Kill, leading Raige to rise to her feet to scream. Don't these people ever knock? They would, Piper allows, but the situation has deteriorated. They bring Raige up to speed on the recent developments. Raige can't quite grasp the implications of having past lives, but she knows better than to question the trio's explanations at this point. "Does this mean I'm [Eeevil]?" she whines. "Yeah," Piper deadpans. "No!" Phoebe corrects. "Just your past self. You've grown, you've evolved." Piper joins Phoebe in making rolling-over motions with her hands. Piper reveals the plan to bind Pre-Raige's powers with the little vials of pink potion each of the invading threesome has in hand. Present Raige immediately volunteers to take care of the situation solo. It's her story. She should be the one who ends it once and for all. Phoebe questions the wisdom of this, but Piper encourages Raige's plan of action. Raige will "backtrack" to find Pre-Raige while the other remain in the apartment with the Road Kill. Once Raige leaves with a vial of the potion, Phoebe turns to Piper to ask, "Why'd you let her go?" "Because it's time we realized we can't make her do something she doesn't want to do." Those Ps. Always learning a little about life.
Outside, Raige strides over to her lime-green Volkswagen Beetle. Her purse is orange. Orange. Against The Pepto-Bismol Horror. Forget extraditing Eilish. I'm calling out a hit. As Raige turns the ignition, she espies Pre-Raige stomping up the street towards her. Raige slams the car into gear and makes to run Pre-Raige down. Pre-Raige summons the air or something and directs it towards the Beetle. The force of the wind keeps the Beetle firmly in place, despite the spinning tires. Presently, those tires burst open from the friction. I'd make a crack about that, but I can't remember if the company pumping out shoddily-manufactured tires of death is Michelin or Goodyear, and more importantly, I can't be bothered to look it up. Raige cuts off the engine and emerges from behind the wheel to confront Pre-Raige. "Don't tell me I've become good," Pre-Raige sneers. "Damn good," Raige replies, and hurls the vial at Pre-Raige. Pre-Raige zaps it with fire, and it shatters harmlessly in mid-air. Pre-Raige then sends the wind Raige's way. Raige flies into the Beetle's windshield, shattering both the glass and presumably her spine. Pre-Raige smirks triumphantly and gazes up at the windows of Raige's studio.