The Bay Mirror. Raige swings through the glass doors to find herself right in the middle of an office-wide smackdown. It's actually pretty amusing -- far too amusing, in fact, for something so cheap and cartoonish, but whatever. After last week's assfest, which followed the season-ending assfest, which followed all those late-season assfests, I'll take my giggles wherever I can. Especially here, when a tiny female extra hoists a two-hundred-pound man over her head and slams him onto a desk, after which he swings a foot around into her face. Or this quick bit, where another random gent spins like a top straight through one of the main doors, sending shards of shattered candy glass cascading to the carpet. Hee. Raige yanks Phoebe off yet another gentleman -- whom Phoebe's beaten unconscious, natch -- to fill her in on the whole dragon thing. As the two bolt through the shattered door, a tremendous glass pitcher flies through after them, smashing into the wall. Heh.
"[Chris]," Piper warns as her son orbs her onto the side of a road, "you're making Mommy very nervous." Tiny Gay Chris fidgets as Piper's cell phone bleeps in her hand. No, she wasn't holding that damn thing back at the Manor, but at this point, I'm too tired to care. She answers to find Raige on the line, and informs her half-sister, "I'm standing outside the Presidio Tunnel, where your nephew just orbed me." Raige immediately orbs in behind her with Phoebe. "Are you out of your mind?" Piper howls. "What about exposure?" Shyeah. Like any of you nimrods seriously worried about that in the past. Pull the other one, hon. Raige starts to inform Piper that she called because of a possible exposure, but the conversation shudders to a halt when an unearthly roar blows out of the tunnel. The gals turn to gawp just as a fiery four-door careens out of said tunnel to crash into the guardrail, followed by a billowing cloud of smoke and flame. The dragon rears up out of the blackness, hovers above them long enough to hawk a tremendous, streaming loogie of flame in their general direction, then flaps away. The gals gape as we merrily blaze our way straight down into the commercial break.
Back from the break, Raige grimly eyes the sun porch television as a sleek journalist files a live report from the mouth of the Presidio Tunnel. "[Officials] haven't ruled out terrorism, of course," she notes, "but at the moment, they're focusing on some rather bizarre reports of a 'giant bird' which 'shot fire out of its mouth at cars like a dragon.'" Raige snaps off the TV and spins around to pout, "As far as clues go, I'd say that's a pretty huge one." Over by the windows, Piper gingerly applies a band-aid to Phoebe's battered skull. Phoebe's empathy silently activates -- and thank God for that silence -- and she wonders why Piper's blaming herself for that afternoon's events. Piper gets in a good one when she shoots Phoebe a smoking side-eye and purrs, "Okay, I haven't actually verbalized guilt yet, so in the future? Let me confess before you analyze." With that matter so deftly handled, Piper moves on to the larger issue. She's put everything together, and has come to the conclusion that Tiny Gay Chris is responsible for the fire-breathing beastie now terrorizing the city. The three glumly mope about their options for a bit until Harvey and Jean mottle their way into the main hallway. Harve steps forward with the introductions. "We're known as The Cleaners," he informs them. "When magic is exposed, we're the ones who cover it up, remove all evidence, erase any memories -- whatever is necessary." So where the hell were you when The Late Lamented slammed through a support pillar, huh? No, we'll never receive a satisfactory answer for that from these clowns tonight, so I'll toss this out for everyone to chew on: The Cleaners never mopped up that particular mess because Alyssa had Shannen fired. Got it? Good. Moving on: "You're the ones who are going to take [Tiny Gay Chris]," Piper realizes. "We won't have to," Harve assures her, "if you can eliminate the exposure risk." Piper's all, "Expose this, jackass," and flings her Hands Of Discontent at the boys in white. Once again, Harvey just snatches the explosive mojo and snuffs it out in his fist. Harve patiently explains that he and Jean are "neutral" entities, and only take action as a last recourse. "Based on your past success in covering up your own magic," he continues evenly, "we've decided to give you a chance to take care of the problem yourselves before it gets out of hand." "Clean it up," he warns them. "Or we will," Jean finishes, thereby earning his SAG card. Harvey wiggles his fingers around, and the boys mottle away.