All Hell Breaks Loose

Episode Report Card
Demian: A | 5 USERS: B+
All Hell Breaks Loose

First, a moment of silence in honor of Shannen Doherty. Yes, she’s become a walking punchline over the last ten years or so. But I have to admit, in many ways she helped make this show more watchable than it has any right to be. Have fun, hon. And if the rumors about your ouster at the hands of Alyssa Milano are true, I do hope you videotape the smackdown I’m certain you have planned for her. I’d pay to see that.

Right, then -- the season finale. Unlike every other episode I’ve seen, they waste not a second getting to the action. Prue, Piper, and Phoebe burst through the front door of the manor, dragging a bald doctor in a lab coat with them. Piper’s fairly certain the danger they face has passed for the moment. Phoebe agrees, as she believes “he” would have attacked the foursome long before they made it back to the house. The good doctor is confused, and wants answers. The sisters, however, are “too busy trying to save [his] life” to provide them at the moment. Prue admits to the good doctor that they “aren’t quite sure” who is after them. Piper whines about Phoebe not providing them “with enough time to figure it out.” Phoebe reminds Piper she “can’t control how far into the future [her] premonitions take place.” Prue cuts through the bickering to suggest that Phoebe head to the attic to check the Book of Shadows for more information on the “demonic hit man” the three are currently fighting. Piper adds that a vanquishing spell would be nice, if Phoebe has the time. She also warns Phoebe not to “get sidetracked by the Cole potion,” as there are more urgent matters at hand. Upon hearing Cole’s name, Prue glances over at Piper with a quizzical expression on her face. She waits until Phoebe has scampered up the stairs to ask Piper about it. Piper fills Prue in on the Colethazor’s excuse for frying Jenna the witch two weeks ago, which as you know is “Ian Buchanan made me do it.” Phoebe, apparently, is now determined to whip up another batch of Demon Be Gone. Prue’s surprised to hear this, as she’d been led to believe Cole was now firmly in Phoebe’s past. And where exactly have you been for the last couple of weeks, Prue?

Doc’s been taking this all in with open-mouthed incredulity. He finally finds his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?” Yes, Doc. Precisely. Now that he has their attention, though, he’s not going to shut up any time soon. “First, you tell me my life is in danger,” he blares. “Then you abduct me from work, and now you’re talking about witches and demons? Who the hell are you people?” Piper rolls her eyes as if to say, “The only problems with saving innocents are the stupid innocents themselves.” Prue gives Doc the shorthand version of what’s going on. He’s a “healer,” which means he does “good.” Either he’s already “saved too many lives,” or he’s about to help someone the dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell want dead. To prevent this, The Source has sent the aforementioned demonic assassin, a personal lackey of his named “Shax.” That’s a horrible name, but I expect nothing less from the “hax” who write these damn things. And that was a horrible joke. Let’s move it along then, shall we? Doc’s had it. He thinks this is all some sort of practical joke perpetrated on his undeserving self by his second wife. He’ll soon learn otherwise. Prue begins to explain that the evil they’re up against is very real, indeed. “Dr. Griffiths, this is anything but…” she starts, but cuts herself short when she feels a “chill” run through her body. She calls for Phoebe as the sound of a raging whirlwind amps up a bit on the soundtrack. Phoebe hollers back that she’ll be with them in a second. Too late. The DemonCam kicks in as we cut to a distorted shot of the front doors slamming open. The demon -- I’m guessing it’s this “Shax” person -- zips through the front hall in a tornadic cloud towards Piper and Prue. The cloud knocks the two sisters to the parlor floor, then flares out into the form of the demon himself. Oh, no. With the long grey wig, the grey body make-up, the tattered grey rags he’s wearing, and the dead leaves swirling around him, I’m waiting for this guy to bust out with the graveyard nightmare number from Fiddler on the Roof. Fruma-Shax here doesn’t look bright enough to memorize the words, though.

Damn. Now I have that song in my head.

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