In any event, after way too much of the saucy banter, Tasty Tim and the Feebs finally make plans for a dinner date just as an obese ninja, um, clots into a far corner of the parking garage. What? These inky-black blobs of transportation mojo materialize in the air and clot together into the ninja's fat form. Seriously. What am I supposed to call it? God, do you remember when dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell just blinked into a room? Or squiggled? Those were the days. Anyway, Tasty Tim spots the new arrival first and, stunned at the demon's appearance, whispers, "Whoa!" As last words go, it certainly leaves something to be desired, but he's hot, so who cares? Fat Ninja bursts into a cloud of demonic bits that retains his overall form as it super-speeds across the concrete to Tasty Tim's side. Fat Ninja then just as quickly solidifies and slashes open the left side of Tasty Tim's face with one of the sets of Freddy Krueger shears he sports on each hand. Poor Tasty Tim. We hardly knew ye. Fat Ninja next targets the Feebs, but she hoots and yodels and kicks him into a springy stretch of chain-link that bounces the demon onto a conveniently well-placed length of rebar jutting from the floor, and demon go boom. Once the subsequent wails and flames have dissipated, an increasingly panicked Feebs kneels at Tasty Tim's side, calling out his name. Tasty Tim does not answer, for although he received no more than a series of slight gashes on the side of his face, he is now a corpse. A very, very pretty corpse, but a corpse all the same. Maybe he hit his head really, really hard when he fell to the floor? Oh, whatever. Like I care. Phoebe's frantic screams for help echo into the opening credits.
The gorgeous opening travelogue is brutally marred by an ovary who seems -- how shall I put this? -- non-native to the English language. "I know what you did like a boy of summer gives his first kiss," the ovary opens, and it gets worse from there. "Love is dancing on my finger," it continues, "you got to the heart of the matter and linger." I...uh...gah...that...WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IN GOD'S NAME THAT'S SUPPOSED TO MEAN? AUAUAUAAAAAGGH! Too early for an aneurysm. Too early for an aneurysm. Too early for an aneurysm. Okay. Whew. Damn, that was close. The travelogue ovary finally begins to make something resembling sense when it whines, "We're back in San Francisco, and you tell me I'm home!" just as the camera pans across the Manor façade. Which is actually on Carroll Avenue in Angelino Heights. In Los Angeles. Shut up, ovary. Up in the nonexistent attic, a quietly distraught Phoebe abuses the Book of Shadows as Piper enters from the upper hall. "What happened?" Piper asks, sisterly concern flooding every syllable. "[Raige] called and said you were attacked!" "I wasn't," Phoebe glumly admits, "a guy from my class was. He's dead." "Oh, God," Piper sighs sympathetically as she and Phoebe cross to Aunt Pearl's sofa to process through Phoebe's battered emotions, or something. Phoebe has learned that the monster responsible for so rudely offing such a hot piece of tail before the opening credits was a "Raptor Demon." "A hired gun," she clarifies. "Hired by whom?" Piper eyebrows. Phoebe doesn't have an answer for that, naturally, but she does let Piper know that Raige has fled to Not!warts in search of a lead. Because she's certain to find one there. Whatever. What's even more annoying than the invocation of Not!warts is that Phoebe promptly makes Tasty Tim's demise All About Her when she sighs, "He asked me out on a date for tomorrow night -- just my luck, huh?" like, bitch, I think the poor guy losing his life is a tiny bit worse than you losing a free dinner, you hateful, self-centered pig.