They arrive on the main floor in time to see The Hollowed Manor Morons orb onto the sun porch, and the pre-battle sniping repeats itself. However, this time around, at the moment the two sets of witches unleash their bolts of deadly mojo at each other, Tomorrow's Piper hearts into the dining room unnoticed, along with Grams, Patty, and the Dolt. The just-arrived women recite The Hollow's banishing spell, and despite the fact that the original spell required the participation of a dark demonic force sent from the flaming maw of Hell, it works anyway. The deadly bolts shoot back into the battling witches' bodies, and The Hollow buzzes up from each of their faces to stream away into the night. Tomorrow's Piper edges into Yesterday's Piper's line of vision, eliciting a "What the hell?" from the latter. "Don't ask," snorts Tomorrow's Piper. "You'll get a headache." Tomorrow'ssss Retard alightssss on the sssstairwell landing at thissss point and lingerssss there until sssshe'ssss caught up in a pink flare that sssshootssss her into Yessssterday'ssss Retard'ssss body. Same thing happens to the Pipers. "Looks like time caught up with itself," opines the Dolt, and no, it didn't, not really, because Tomorrow's Piper and Retard are still several hours ahead of Yesterday's Piper and Retard at this point, but I'm not going to argue, because I'm twenty-two minutes and twenty-nine seconds away from FREEDOM, and CANCELLED!
Reconstituted Piper does not immediately deploy The Mighty Hands Of Discontent upon her unwelcome houseguests' worthless asses, because Reconstituted Piper is an idiot, thereby allowing Reconstituted Retard enough time to smash the potion vial she'd toted from Tomorrow's Not!warts onto the floor. Maggot Neck and Openly Deranged Chrissssty disappear in a cloud of teleportative smoke. "Dammit!" Piper grumbles. Hey, it's your own stupid fault, honey. Don't go bitching about it now. And if you think that's bad, doll, it's about to get a little bit worse. Patty barely has time to puzzle over The Late Lamented's absence when The Angel Of Teasley arrives in a magnificent cascade of golden light. "I'm sorry," she apologizes to Piper, "but I have no choice." Just as quickly as she appeared, she then dematerializes with the Dolt, that little golden ball of hers dancing around on the sun porch for a moment before darting into the next commercial break.