Why, an entire warehouse full, doll, as she, Phoebe, and the audience learn when the shot cuts over to a cadaverous lesser Homeland Security agent sliding open a huge set of metal doors to reveal stack after stack of yellowing, dust-encrusted cardboard containers lining the shelves of some out-of-the-way government storage facility. "You have got to be kidding me!" Piper howls, gazing upon the scene with Phoebe in dismay. The ladies gape their collective way into the opening credits.
"Agent Murphy says he wants you to start with these," the cadaverous gentleman exposits as he leads Piper and Phoebe deeper into the warehouse, adding, "They're rated Para-7 Suspicion and higher." "Para-7 Suspicion"? Whatever, corpse man. Piper has much the same reaction as I just did, which Special Agent Wormfood ignores in favor of reminding them to wear gloves so as not to contaminate the evidence. And with that, he crosses to shut the doors, leaving the two outraged Ps to their own devices. "This can't be legal!" Piper gripes as I attempt and fail to ignore the name of tonight's "Special [Guest Ovary]" at P3. Oh, Liz! Darling, if you told me that your only two options for getting yet another one of your songs featured on this show for free were blowing Brad Kern or actually appearing onstage at Piper's stupid nightclub, I'd have told you to break out the kneepads. Well, we'll deal with this disheartening development later, I suppose, though it is nice to know there will be no suspense involved in Piper's boring little P3 subplot at all this evening, which also means I can skim through those scenes. Unless, of course, their complete lack of Retarded Bimbosity makes them as almost-enjoyable to watch as the episode thus far. Seriously, you people. Fire Kaley Cuoco already. She sucks, and she's dragging down what wasn't a terribly good show to begin with. Yick.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: Alyssa Milano launches herself into some mildly amusing shtick involving the latex gloves and Phoebe's inability to wrestle her hands into the same, but come on, Lyssie. You expect us to believe Phoebe has a problem wrapping human appendages in latex now? After seven and a half years? Pull the other one. No, not like that. Ew. I meant leg -- you know, "Pull the other leg." No, not that leg, you skank. Jesus! ANY-way, Piper and Phoebe piss and moan at each other regarding the task before them for a bit until Piper's cell rings. "Don't you get that!" Phoebe warns, dark threats of grievous bodily injury flooding her tone. Piper answers it anyway. Heh. It's the Dolt, apparently, calling to organize a meet-and-greet with that Smitty person over at the club. Piper immediately agrees and snaps shut her phone while Phoebe grouches about Piper ditching out on her, or something. She's still struggling with the latex, by the way, but abandons that when Piper reminds her, "You should probably leave those off because you'll get a premonition easier without them." Excellent point, Phoebe, you dumbass. Piper scuttles through the exit while Phoebe exaggeratedly snaps off the one glove she'd managed to get halfway down her fingers during this scene. "Ow!" she bleats when the thing stings her other hand. Who the hell are these moderately entertaining people, and where the hell have they been all season?