Not!warts. Raige meanders into the Not-So-Great hall with Drake's class schedule and student roster. She also reveals she's assigned the delightful Ann Cusack as his teaching assistant. This is...not very interesting at all, so we'll skip ahead to the part where Phoebe bounces into the room with her congratulations and, presumably, an offer to fuck him on the desk once they've rid themselves of pesky Raige. Hell, maybe they'll just go at it right in front the sister -- it is Valentine's Day, after all, and Phoebe's a game sort of gal. Ain't love grand? Fortunately for her sake, Raige must flee to babysit the kids for Piper and the Dolt, thereby allowing Phoebe and Drake some measure of privacy. Once alone with the latest object of her sordid affections, Phoebe passes him tomorrow's paper, wrapping up the stupid phone company storyline with word that Normand has agreed to refund all of those unethical-yet-not-illegal fees he'd collected over the years. "Guess he just needed to be reminded of his mortality," Phoebe smirks. No one cares, Phoebe. NO ONE CARES. Drake, for his part, has a somewhat more interesting tale to tell. That deal he made with the blessedly late and decidedly unlamented Roché? It "only lasts a year." "At the end of it," he explains, "I gotta die." Phoebe giggles like a fool until she realizes he's serious. "Can we fix it?" she wonders, crushed. "You can't," he insists before assuring her that "it's all good." He then races off to his night class -- WHAT? -- leaving Phoebe to gnash her teeth in unwillingly chaste despair over not getting any demonic tail on Valentine's Day, or something, as we finally fade to black.
Next week, the ungodly marriage of Moulin Rouge! and, well, Phoebe Halliwell, actually, as Phoebe and Drake get caught in a century-old time loop that traps them in a doomed Barbary Coast bordello. Huh. Phoebe as a whore? Go figure. See you then!