A beautiful, slow-moving shot of the nighttime skyline from the bay takes back over to the Manor. From the kitchen doorway, our intrepid heroines scan the main floor for demons, then cautiously edge over to the stairs with Maximum Security Dolt in tow. Prison Bitch Feebs flies down from the landing in a burgundy-toned negligee, begging her sisters to leave before Cole and his lackeys murder them. Ooops. Too late, Feebs, for here comes Cole now from the depths of the sun porch. He conjures a vast Flaming Ball Of You Will Move Two Feet Backwards And Be Unconscious Now, Yes? that whacks Piper, Raige, and the Dolt into a bar assembled at the foot of the stairs. The three face-plant at Prison Bitch Phoebe's feet, with the vanquishing vial clattering across the floor from Raige's limp hand. Cole flicks a little mojo at the potion, and it whisks through the air into his fist. He then leans casually against one of the internal archways connecting the rooms, all pouty lips and alluring eyes and attractive backlighting, and while God knows I'm not going to miss the crap storylines he's had to endure, I will miss looking at him every week. Raige comes to as Prison Bitch Phoebe kneels by Cell Block Piper to hag at her husband. "I don't know how you got here," Cole coolly admits to Raige, "but if it's any consolation, I know exactly where I'm going to bury you. Right next to yourself." Raige grabs the still-unconscious Piper's hand and calls for Phoebe to do the same. The moment Phoebe completes the physical link, the chandelier above shudders on its moorings as if the Manor were caught in an earthquake, and the reconstituted Charmed Ones are bathed in a bluish white glow. Cole hurls another Flaming Ball Of Death at the three women, but it ricochets harmlessly off the cone of light that floods the hallway, and flies out of the house through one of the sun porch doors. Well, that's new. Prison Bitch Phoebe rises to her feet and intones, "The Power of Three." Raige stands and immediately summons the vanquishing vial from Cole's fist with her orbing telekinesis. "I do hate long goodbyes," she quips, and draws back her hand to hurl the vial into Cole's chest. "No!" shouts Prison Bitch Phoebe, snatching the potion away from her sister. Oh, just KILL HIM ALREADY.
But no. First we must listen to the following from Cole and Phoebe. As it includes Julian McMahon's last little speech ever on this show, I'll transcribe it for you. Feel free to act along at home.