Back from the break, an extended tracking shot starts by focusing on the aerial of the KCSF satellite truck parked outside the manor. The camera pans down to reveal a growing clutch of reporters and bystanders in a knot on the sidewalk. Darryl pulls up next to the van, and is immediately hounded by about eight journalists. The camera follows him as he pushes his way through the crowd to the front stairs. On one of the landings, an irritating hippie woman natters on about being a witch herself. Darryl pushes past her, only to be accosted by Piranha Dominguez, who has the unmitigated gall to be standing right on the goddamn front porch. Darryl barks into his cell, telling Prue to open the door. She allows him in, then slams the door in Piranha’s face with a “Back off!” No one does bitch quite like the Prue, ladies and gentlemen. The shot finally cuts, landing us in the manor hall. Piper trundles in from the kitchen, bitching about the reporters, and can’t Darryl do anything about it? Not really. The Ps should expect such attention when they “kill somebody in broad daylight.” Prue snits, “It wasn’t somebody -- it was a demon. And we aren’t sure if we killed him.” Darryl asks her if she’d like to inform the crowd outside of that fact. Prue rolls her eyes. Darryl’s called for backup, but admits that the police won’t be of much help in a media frenzy. Piper snots that they “shouldn’t have followed [Fruma-Shax] into the street.” Prue, sarcastically: “We could have let him kill our innocent. That would’ve been better, ya think?” I think Death would answer that question with a yes. As a matter of fact, I think he did answer that question with a yes a few episodes back when FetusHead and his goon sucked the brain out of that rather annoying policeman. Can’t teach an old Prue new tricks, now can you?
Darryl cuts in with more bad news. “The captain wants me to bring you in for questioning.” Before Piper and Prue can bitch to him about that development, his cell phone rings. He moves off into the dining room to take the call as Prue crosses to Piper’s side. “Maybe when Phoebe’s done saving Cole, she can come back and save us,” she snarks. The Dolt orbs into the hall. Seems word of the Great Halliwell Unmasking of 2001 has reached the ears of TPTB. They’re concerned, but useless. As usual. Piper starts to piss and moan about this, but the Dolt cuts her short. Piper and Prue screwed up. If they don’t figure out a way to fix things, they run the risk of losing “all the good that [they’ve] done and all the good that [they] are meant to do.” Piper puts forth the proposition that perhaps the Great Unmasking was fated, that perhaps the sisters are not meant to continue with their witchy ways. Prue disagrees. She sees the current situation as the latest in a series of “tests” they’ve been given over the past year. Regardless, she and Piper “still have work to do.” “Doctor Griffiths?” Piper asks incredulously. Yep. Prue’s convinced Fruma-Shax will not be vanquished until Phoebe returns to complete the Power of Three. The Dolt was unaware of Phoebe’s little day trip to Hell. Prue tells him it’s not important at the moment. What is important is that the Dolt orb them over to Doctor Griffiths’s place of employment immediately. The Dolt can’t. TPTB are worried that Whitelighters might be exposed as well. Piper, as you might expect, does not take this news well. “Cowards!” she shrieks. Darryl returns from the dining room for a brief confab. He warns Prue against taking further action, as she may be endangering herself and her sister. Prue’s in Alpha Witch mode, so arguments not favoring her intended plan of action fall upon deaf ears. She books out the back door with Piper to drive to the hospital in the SUV. Out on the manor lawn, Piranha Dominguez natters into her microphone about possible arrests. She’s interrupted by the unwashed and still-irritating hippie woman screaming at the sight of Prue and Piper running towards their car. As the hippie babbles, “Take me! Take me!” Prue slips behind the wheel, guns the engine, and takes off down the street. The hippie flails her rag-doll arms around in frustration as Piranha Dominguez barks an off-camera order to follow the SUV.
Cavern of the Bi Kraps. Phoebe hurls the Colethazor back into his bed of straw. He sighs, then says, “You’re not an easy girl to dump.” Heh. Phoebe insists she won’t leave until she “get[s] what [she] came for.” The Colethazor tells her she’s wasting her time. The Colethazor’s not for taking anymore. They kick it exposition-style about the black mark on the Colethazor’s permanent record because of the Jenna Flambé and Phoebe’s willingness to forgive him for that anyway. He grabs her throat again to get her to shut up. Thank you, Cole. He tells her to “go home.” She smashes the vial of her latest concoction onto his shoulder. He staggers backwards, dazed, as a rising mist twines around his head. “Pretty cool potion, huh?” Phoebe asks. He lunges forward to suck face. “Potion”? Try “poppers,” Feebs. After a bit of the necking, they break apart and launch into more of that “forbidden love” nonsense. She wants to squiggle back to the manor immediately. He doesn’t think his bosses will let him go so easily. “So where does that leave us?” she pouts. “Right where we are,” he replies. Yeah, whatever. Get back to the A story already.