Battle Of The Hexes

Episode Report Card
Demian: F | Grade It Now!
It's Absurd! It's A Bane! It's Supertard!

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."

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