"Charmed -- The One Hundredth Episode," booms The Velvety Voice Of The WB. "Michelle Branch guest stars, and someone won't live to see Episode One Hundred And One." Oh, Mr. Velvety Voice. Please let that someone be Michelle Branch. Please?
We fade up on the Manor exterior as The Mischievous Harp Of Rapidly Approaching Hundredth-Episode Hijinks unleashes a few unearthly -- yet fun-loving! -- tones upon the soundtrack. Up in the attic, the Dolt orbs onto the carpet from above, glances around for a moment, then pouts, "Come on, [Raige], I know you're here. You summoned me." A low, raspy, echoing noise tickles his ears, and he spins about in alarm as an unknown invisible shimmery presence sneaks up behind him. Make that "an unknown invisible shimmery presence with boobs," for the Predator-like entity currently refracting the low attic light appears to have quite the rack. The shimmery rack dives into the Dolt's back, and he immediately howls in agony as the presence runs roughshod through his internal organs. With a roar, the Dolt explodes in a cascading shower of orbing Dolt bits. Raige promptly materializes in a flare of yellowish Wiccan mojo and tosses her hands in the air triumphantly. "That was a vanquish!" she crows as the Dolt bits reassemble into Dolt form a few feet away. "Dammit, [Raige]!" he snits. "I would appreciate it if you didn't practice on me. I may be dead, but it still hurts!" Suffer, bitch. Lord knows I have.
Raige ignores the Dolt's outraged yelps to explain what just happened. Late one night, while wondering what she could do about The Cole Issue, Raige realized that Cole's "protection shield" was the biggest obstacle the Glamorous Ladies had to overcome with regard to a vanquish. So, she concocted a potion that grants her temporary invisibility. With it, she can evade the shield, invade Cole's body, and vanquish him from within with a bit of cheap doggerel. Kinky. Not to mention implausible. But let's just ignore those adjectives for the moment while the Dolt whines about Raige's rash course of action. It won't work, he claims, and even if it did, she shouldn't be doing it alone. He insists that the solution to The Cole Issue rests in the Power of Three. Raige refuses to let the prissy pantywaist piss on her parade. She's worked too hard for too many days on this idea -- alone, thank you very much -- and she'll not see all that effort go to waste. She snatches up another vial of the invisibility potion and flounces off in a huff. The Dolt purses his lips and sighs in an impotent display of passive-aggressive disapproval.
Casa Del Cole. The elevator bell dings, and the doors slide open to reveal the haggard-looking himself wearily loosening his tie. He disembarks and shuffles over to a low table in the foyer, upon which he tosses his keys and wallet before sadly regarding a framed photo of himself and Phoebe in happier times. It's the same saccharine image used several times in the past -- the one featuring Phoebe in her knit Chemotherapy Cloche -- and I silently pray that tonight's events mean I'll never have to gaze upon it again. Cole bleakly lifts his eyes from the snapshot and stares into his reflection in the gilt mirror hanging above the table. He grants his reflection a slight, sardonically cordial bow, and murmurs a tired, "Happy birthday." Aw. I know from crappy birthdays and the uncontrollable waves of morose self-pity that can inexplicably wash over a person enduring one, so he's getting nothing but sympathy from me. Then again, Cole's wallowing because of The Knockered Nitwit, so perhaps I should be telling him to get the fuck over it already. While compassion and annoyance tussle in by brain, Cole turns and enters the Casa proper to examine that dreadful photograph more closely under a lamp. The Shimmery Presence Of Invisible Raige wiggles into the room behind him, and we switch to the InvisiRaige Cam for a second as Raige stalks up to Cole's back. To his immense discomfort, Raige propels herself into his body and presumably recites her vanquish. Small white flares burst through his shirt before he himself erupts in a spray of chunky demon pellets that vanish outwards from the frame.