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"Shiver Me Bitches!"

Finally! An opening travelogue! I don't know about you, but the lack of an opening travelogue for three straight episodes was beginning to unnerve me. Because I fear change. The travelogue is brief, ovary-free, and anviliciously reliant upon shots of the early morning mist rolling across the city from the ocean, but it is oh, so welcome at Casa Demian. Over on Prescott Street, the kettle whistles -- get it? -- up in the kitchen as Piper futzes with a baby monitor at the center island and the Dolt groans in frustration at the table. As Piper prepares some tea, the Dolt agonizes over his failed attempts to scry for the two missing "practitioners." Piper settles into a chair next to her ex-husband and instructs him to list the disappearances' "common denominators." "Besides the fact that they're witches," the Dolt replies, "the fog rolled in just before they disappeared." "Well, of course the fog rolled in," Piper deadpans playfully. "It's San Francisco." She begins flipping through the Book of Shadows as the Dolt smirks at her fondly. "What?" she asks, catching his eye. "Nothing," he shrugs. "It's just that I miss this." "Sleepless nights and endless exposition?" she prompts. "Not me." Aw. Not.

Raige, thank God, interrupts the tedious meta-commentary to shriek in from Not!warts on orb cloud and bay, "Do I look like a 'ma'am' to you?" Apparently, some Nit!wit bumped into her earlier that morning and apologized with "Excuse me, ma'am," which has never, ever happened to her before in her entire life, and bullshit. She's twenty-seven years old. Someone had to have addressed her in such a manner long before now. Whatever. The entire exchange exists simply to set up a not-so-funny one-liner later in the episode, so let's keep this moving. Long story short, Piper and the Dolt fill Raige in on the whole missing-persons situation, and Raige bounds out of the room to scry for the practitioners. Piper and the Dolt leap to their feet to follow her, with Piper protesting that scrying's already been tried and found wanting. The Dolt's of the opinion that the missing women have been gone too long for the crystal to work. Raige ponders all this for an instant before suggesting that they ask Detective Doormat if Missing Persons has received any additional reports since the previous evening. "Go ahead, ask him," Piper shrugs, directing Raige towards the front door. "He's outside." Raige puckers and powers over to fling open the door. She edges slowly to the front of the porch until she spots Detective Doormat's sedan parked on the opposite side of the street below. Raige gapes in wordless outrage for a moment before spinning on her heel and storming back inside. "They're watching us?" she demands of Piper as she slams the door behind her. "Staking us out," Piper corrects. "Apparently, [Pepper] wants us real bad." "Which means," the Dolt stresses, "that you can't very well go running around the city looking for missing witches." "Unless there's a distraction," Raige notes with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Phoebe still home?" What, you're going to have that skank strip down to her scanties and wiggle around in front of an unwilling audience until that audience claws their eyes out in anguish and disgust? That's not a distraction, Raige. That's a weekly occurrence.

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