The night before I wrote the first draft of this recap, I dropped by my local for a few, and Paul The Bartender and I got to talking about how this would be my last Charmed recap ever, because CANCELLED! For some reason, this led to a little math: This is the one-hundred-forty-first episode I've covered over the last six years. If you allow for an average of eighty-five-hundred words per recap, that means I'll have written roughly 1,198,500 words about this show.
One million, one-hundred-ninety-eight thousand, five hundred words. ABOUT CHARMED.
I won't even hint at the hours involved. You'll think I'm insane.
But don't think I haven't had fun, because I have -- much more than I ever would have expected. And for that, I have numerous people to thank, foremost amongst them Sarah Bunting, Girl Editor Extraordinaire, and her fellow Television Without Pity Heads Of Programming, Tara Ariano and Dave Cole. ["Every word of the million-plus a precious gem, my dear. The pleasure was ours." -- Sars] I also must thank John Ramos, Stephanie Lucianovic, and Dan Blau for quite hilariously stepping in for me on those numerous occasions when I had to skip a couple of episodes in order to preserve my tenuous relationship with sanity. And last but certainly not least, sloppy kisses to the hysterical gang of bitter, bitter bitches on the forum boards, who left no nit unpicked, no atrocious abortion of fashion unvomited-upon, and no outrageous example of Phoebe's graceless and self-centered hagritude unjudged, while being most viciously funny about it all for six very long years. Now, let's get to it:
Previously on CANCELLED!, they blew up the Manor, and Phoebe died in the process! Hooray!
Currently on CANCELLED!, we fade up on the nighttime façade of The Hagquarters, and the camera pulls a slow pan in towards the windows as a brief burst of light flashes from within. We dart inside to discover the source of the burst: Piper, deploying the Mighty Hands Of Discontent to blast open the door. I'd tell her to use the doorknob like a normal person, but I'm thinking that in her current mood, she'd more than likely turn the Mighty Hands Of Discontent on me, and I didn't drag myself through six years of this crap just to get my ass blown off in the first ten seconds of the last episode. "Piper, you gotta keep it down," whispers the freshly defrosted Dolt, who enters The Hagquarters behind his wife. As he flicks on the lights and stands on the landing, staring dumbly at the apartment's furnishings, or something, Piper powers over to the Book of Shadows for a little abuse. "There's nothing in the Book that can fix this," the Dolt warns, snapping out of his strange reverie to bustle over to the kitchenette, where he dumps some water on a dishrag to wipe the soot from Piper's face. "There's gotta be something," Piper mutters, still fairly wrecked after the recent showdown in the now-destroyed Manor. "There's not," the Dolt insists, dabbing the dishrag against her forehead, "and [The Ever-Useless Elders] can't undo what's already been done." Well, of course not, Dolt. That's why we call them "Ever-Useless." Moron. The Dolt, ignoring me, gently but firmly shuts the Book, which Piper has placed on her lap, the better to disguise the fact that Holly Marie Combs is, by now, one hundred and thirteen months pregnant. "Are you sure the boys are okay?" he asks. Piper, tears in her eyes, just breathes, "I'm sorry you had to come back to this," by way of response. The Dolt blinks bleakly a couple of times before drawing her into a hug.