Meanwhile, rain lashes against the nighttime Manor façade as lightning crackles across the sky. Up in the Prue Halliwell Memorial Bimbo Boudoir Of Paisley Tit Slings And Other Fashion Atrocities, currently occupied by the slumbering Phoebe, the lady in question tosses restlessly from her side onto her back while the camera swoops up over the bed. As lightning flashes through the window, Phoebe flips around some more and quite unexpectedly finds herself face-to-face with Pasty Tim's recumbent and reanimated corpse. Zombie Tim snaps open his now milky eyes and sneers, "It was your fault!" Phoebe screams in terror and jumps from the bed to the far side of the room. "I died because of you," The Timbie spits, pushing himself to his knees before leaping to the floor with a seething "And now I'm gonna make you pay!" With that, he lunges at the petrified Feebs and slams her against the wall, throttling her scrawny neck with one of his rather large hands. Phoebe manages to shove him back towards the bed and races to fling open the boudoir door to find Piper and the Dolt rushing towards her just as another flash of lightning illuminates the room. "What is it?" Piper cries, almost as panicked as the Feebs. "He's trying to kill me!" Phoebe shrieks, caroming between her sister and brother-in-law as she plunges through the doorway into the hall. Piper extends a wary arm into the room and flicks on the lights. The boudoir is empty. "Who?" the Dolt dims, staring at the rumpled and blameless bed. Phoebe gasps and wordlessly heaves the Fun Bags into the commercial break.
The following morning, Piper enters the center parlor from the kitchen with a mug of something comforting that she passes to the Feebs, the latter of whom has curled up on one of the sofas for a dejected processing summit with her sisters. "I'm telling you, he was there," Phoebe maintains, "and he blamed me for letting him die." "And you're sure you didn't just dream this?" Raige asks from the depths of one of the overstuffed armchairs. "Yeah, I'm sure!" Phoebe snots. "How many times do I have to tell you that?" Bitch. As she eases herself into another chair, Piper suggests -- in tones far more pacifying than I'd ever be able to muster in the same situation -- that it's "a valid question, considering [the Dolt] and I didn't see anybody in your room." "That doesn't mean he wasn't there," Phoebe grumps.
Piper and Raige wax psychological for a dimwitted moment before the Dolt arrives from the attic with some relevant information. "I found something on the undead here in the Book," he explains, lugging the thing over to the coffee table. "Demonic alchemists have the ability to control the undead but lack the power to bring them back to life -- they need an upper-level demon for that." And that's...not what we saw with the last demonic alchemist to appear on this godforsaken program, but this show sucks, so whatever. Just go with it, for it is always easier when you just go with it. "So now we're looking for two demons?" Piper snorts, even though she of all people should remember that neither Piggy nor the Slut required the assistance of an upper-level demon to raise the dead. Gah. "Which means [The Timbie] will be back," Phoebe glums, paying me no mind, "because he wants to make me pay." "Who knows?" she adds with aggravating amounts of self-pity. "Maybe I deserve it." Well, if you insist upon giving me an opening like that, hon, I'm pretty much compelled to take it and note both that there's no "maybe" about it and that you've had it coming to you for four goddamned years. Hag. "Phoebe, come on," Piper chides, "if the demons are behind this and they're controlling [The Timbie], they're just trying to freak you out." "It's working!" Phoebe snorts. "Which is exactly why you need to get back to business as usual," Piper argues, "before you drive yourself crazy." Piper, Raige, and the Dolt prevail upon Phoebe to head into All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, but not before Phoebe elicits a promise from them all to fetch her the moment they locate the corpse fucker responsible. As Phoebe disappears upstairs, Raige's cell rings, and it's wimpy Joanna, who apparently had an enormous row with her abusive boyfriend, so Raige needs to motor on over to Joanna's apartment to deal with the fallout. "A lovers' spat?" Piper eyebrows. "Is that really something her Whitelighter needs to deal with, especially right now?" Raige reveals she's been picking up a terribly creepy vibe from Carl, and as she's afraid he might physically harm Joanna, she thinks it's for the best if she heads over to Joanna's immediately. Piper agrees. As Raige vanishes, Piper turns to the Dolt with, "We should call [the Doormat] and make sure that [The Timbie's] body is still in the morgue." The Dolt wiggles his eyebrows at the wife. "Or...not?" Piper offers.
Hell. Pasty Tim lies on a slab while Corpse Fucker strokes Pasty Tim's clammy skin and practically creams himself. Ew. Much of the subsequent scene involves John Kassir making with similarly inappropriate, vile, and unamusing necrophiliac schtick, so I'll be skimming through it to pull out the relevant bits. Zankou summons from points unknown a massive metal casket containing the remains of someone who died "four years ago." He intends, you see, to reanimate the corpse within to further eat away at Phoebe's self-confidence by forcing her to deal with the putrefying remnants of yet another innocent she "lost" "in the eternal fight." No, it's not Prue. Were you paying no attention to the guest scroll at the top of the hour? Don't be silly. Though Zombie Prue quite literally ripping Phoebe a new one over that wall incident would kick all kinds of ass, wouldn't it? Sigh. So many missed opportunities. In any event, Phoebe's deepening doubt should spread to infect her sisters, starting with Raige, for whom Zankou promises "a crisis of faith" at the very moment she finds herself most vulnerable. From there, the wave of Zombie-related angst should next engulf Piper, allowing Zankou to achieve his primary objective for the evening: Possession of the Book of Shadows. "The sisters and the Book of Shadows are linked," Zankou explains, "and by weakening them, I'll weaken the Book's defenses, too, enough to make it mine." Yeah, it makes no sense. Just gaze upon the hotness that is Oded Fehr in a nicely tailored black leather jacket and go with it, okay?