The Laboratory Of It's Not The Fall That Blah Blah Splat. Sugar The Comatose Bong Monkey hoists himself out of his wheelchair onto a bed and starts ordering about his lackeys with nonsensical technobabble, all "thirty cc's of" this and "dream inducement level to" that. One of the flunkies has the unmitigated gall to question him, but Sugar smacks him down all, "Set the machine and give me the shot, dammit!" The lackeys obey.

Buckland's. Prue, exhausted, nods off at her desk, and...

...lifts her head to find Sugar grinning at her as the lighting becomes more saturated in golds and blues. She snatches up a letter opener and screams for help as Sugar morphs the scene around them from her office to the The Soundstage Of It's Not The Fall That...Splat. He icily asks her what she's hiding from, what with the long hours at a thankless job and everything. "I'm not hiding from innything!" she spits as the realization that she is once again paralyzed leads her to thrash about helplessly. Sugar stalks around the desk and grips the arms of her chair, pushing her around the stage so that the chair's casters flip about in the mist that rises from the floor. Nice touch. He sneers that she's powerless, and threatens to go after Piper and Phoebe "and any number of young, single women" after he's through with her, calling himself "The Dream Sorcerer" and rolling her closer to the edge. Drawing upon every bit of strength in her body, Prue launches her right leg into the air, grinding her knee into his crotch as she impales his hand with the letter opener. Sugar roars and yanks himself away from her as the phone chirps, cutting through their screams, and...

...Prue snaps awake, drool no doubt pooling on the various files on her desk. She picks up the receiver to find Andy on the other end. He "just wanted to hear [her] voice." She groggily thanks him for calling and hangs up. Still clutching the opener, she wheels about in her chair with the thing raised when Rex startles her from behind. "Bloody hell!" he shouts, which is pretty accurate. The opener is smeared with gore from Sugar's hand. Prue gazes at it in horror as she lowers it to her desk. The camera tracks in on it as we fade out into commercial.

The Loneliest Precinct House In The World, and I'm going to start calling it Andy's House Of Beef or something, because that other name has become a pain in the ass to type. Darryl ruthlessly deconstructs Andy's suspicions regarding Sugar. Andy in turn gets hot and heavy with the exposition, explaining that Sugar's research concerns "dream leaping" (which is exactly what you think it is) while noting that the breaking-off of his relationship with the first victim was what led to the car accident that left him a crippled and embittered bong monkey. He was so distraught, you see, that he wrecked his car, so he leapt into Derickson's subconscious and threw her off a roof. Just go with it. After all, Darryl is. The two grab their jackets and saunter out of the precinct.