...Sugar howls and screams in The Laboratory. Eventually, capillaries running beneath his skin burst as his face freezes into a permanently agonized mask of terror, and wow. That was unexpectedly disturbing. "I can't believe it," Andy mutters. "He's dead." "I'll never question you again," replies Darryl, like, promises, promises, you jackass.
Emergency room. Prue's eyes flutter open. "He's gone," she states simply.
The next morning, Phoebe and Piper wheel a cart of floral arrangements into Prue's private room. Prue herself is propped up in bed, leafing through a magazine. "Please tell me you guys are here to take me home," she begs. Sorry, Prue. The doctor wants you to remain another night for observation. "Besides," Phoebe brightly offers, it wouldn't kill you to get some rest." Phoebe bugs out her eyes, claps a hand over her mouth, and gasps at her own stupidity. Prue snickers. Phoebe and Piper reveal that once they reversed the Mystery Date spell, neither Hans nor Jack remembered a thing about their erstwhile girlfriends, and that is going to suck when they get their monthly credit card statements. And let's not forget the Big Gay Porn Star's certain confusion when his posse busts on him regarding his new fag hag the next time he shows up at Rage to cruise for trade. Andy wiggles through the flowers at that moment with a single red rose and a bag of cheeseburgers for Prue. Prue shoots Phoebe the wicked side-eye. "What?" Phoebe squawks. "I didn't tell him!" "Guilty," Piper confesses, and she and Phoebe leave Prue alone with the boy. "Glad to see you haven't broken every bone in your body," he grins. Prue squints suspiciously. "From the car accident!" Andy blurts. Prue grins back in kind and accepts the rose. Phoebe and Piper smile at the exchange, then scamper off down the hallway hand-in-hand as we fade to black.
Next week's episode is entitled "The Wedding From Hell," but we all know it can't possibly be the wedding from hell, right? Take it easy, everyone.