The shot cuts away to reveal Raige huddled in a doorway at the center of a throng of demonic production assistants. She spies on Miss Morgan's interaction with Cole, then catches sight of Phoebe heading into the kitchen. Raige sets a determined expression on her face and wedges past the demonic PAs to join her sister.

Back in the kitchen, Phoebe orders the cooking lackeys from the room so that she can sneak a cigarette from her stash in one of the drawers. Because dastardly Cole's evil spell has so destroyed her world that poor Phoebe's been driven into Philip Morris's open and comforting arms in a wild and reckless attempt to ease her pain, or something. Shut up, Phoebe. Though I do appreciate this opportunity to gift Alterna-Feebs with a prison-appropriate nickname. Since "My Cellmate Sold Me To A Psychotic Lesbian Serial Killer In The Shower For A Pack Of Tareytons Phoebe" takes too much time to type, "Prison Bitch Phoebe" will have to do. Raige enters, and we get another round of "I'm your sister! No, really!" Prison Bitch Phoebe tolerates about three seconds of this before bellowing for her lackeys to remove Raige from the Manor. Darryl, surprisingly enough, answers the summons. Raige -- still not getting it -- greets him brightly. Darryl grabs her arm to toss her out the back door, but Raige snatches up a handy frying pan and bonks him on the head. As he collapses to the floor, Raige pleads for Phoebe's help, arguing that "in [her] heart of hearts," Phoebe knows she's not meant to be with Cole. Darryl, meanwhile, pulls out an automatic and squeezes off a couple of rounds. Raige ducks, and that little television set they insist on having in the kitchen takes another one for the team. Raige flees, followed immediately by Darryl as the camera focuses on Prison Bitch Phoebe's horrible hair, overdone eyeliner, slack jaw, and ugly necklace. I mean, "conflicted face."