Cole brightly barges in at this moment to greet Freddie Prinze Charming Junior. Prinze Charming gets the short version of the Cole and Phoebe backstory, and we learn Prinze Charming is the scion of a prominent publishing family that owns newspapers and television stations across the country. Phoebe, appalled, drags Cole into her office to shriek at him. Her efforts to chastise him for interfering yet again in her life are somewhat undermined by the presence of that coffee stain on her ludicrous top, which makes it look like she's lactating silicone. Cole, unsurprisingly, was simply trying to further Phoebe's career by hooking her up with someone who could syndicate her advice column. Phoebe remains convinced that Cole harbors some dastardly plan to drag her back to the Underworld, and threatens him with death should any harm come to the Fun Bags. Cole, mopey, exits wordlessly. Prinze Charming, overeager for Cole's sloppy seconds, edges towards the Feebs with an invitation to accompany him to a benefit that evening at the St. Regis. Phoebe's flattered, but declines.
Manor. Out on the sun porch, Piper's busy with some shrieking of her own, shrilling for the Dolt to drag Grams down to the house from Whitelighterland. She's stuck on that whole needing-advice thing from earlier, you see. The Dolt protests that he can't resurrect the dead, and thank God for that, because The Dolt As Christ would be far too great a cross for one recapper to bear. He suggests she summon Grams on her own as she has in the past. Piper bitches that she tried that already, and it didn't work. "This is a very special baby with very special needs," she gripes, "and I need someone pretty damn special to help me figure it out, and when I say now, I mean now!" Rather than receiving a supernatural smackdown from The Powers That Be for this bitchy hissyfit, Piper instead gets exactly what she wanted. A Swirling Cloud Of Glowing Golf Balls materializes on the sun porch to disengorge Jennifer Rhodes and her new hairdo. Grams! Hooray! New hairdo! Not so much! Evidently, Grams was feeling blonde and did something drastic about it. No matter, really, as she's always an enjoyable guest star.
Grams is shocked to find herself corporealized in the Manor. Piper thanks the Dolt, but he insists he had nothing to do with it. They surmise that Piper "tapped into" the percolating infant's powers, and this is what dragged Grams to the Manor. Grams is touched, and hugs Piper before getting down to business. Grams immediately rattles off a list of tasks Piper should have performed by now but hasn't, including concocting a potion "to ward off demonic parasites." Upon learning that Piper's been a lazy, misguided cow thus far, Grams wonders how, exactly, Piper's been spending her time. "We built a nursery in our bedroom closet!" perks the Dolt. "Closet?" Grams intones, her voice dripping with contempt. "No wonder this baby summoned me." Thank you! God! Shoving a baby into a goddamned closet. What were they thinking? Grams motors to the stairs to put an end to this abusive closet nonsense once and for all. Raige appears on the landing at this moment to snark playfully, "Don't tell me you're already interviewing nannies?" Grams beams, introduces herself, and drags Raige into an embrace that clearly sets Raige's teeth on edge. Seriously, Raige looks like she's just plowed face-first into a pile of dog shit on the sidewalk. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" she asks. "Oh, I'm over that," Grams blithely replies with airly dismissive hand gestures. Snicker. Piper shoos the Dolt to the nursery as Grams, unaware of Raige's unease, lovingly babbles that Raige has her great-grandmother's eyes. "She was a real looker, too," Grams adds confidentially, all cool grandmother you always wish you had. "I bet you have plenty of boyfriends." Raige reluctantly admits that that's not the case, addressing Grams with a somewhat frosty "Mrs. Halliwell" as she does so. I mention this exchange only because Raige's relationship status becomes an issue later on. Just so you know.
Just then, the Woodsman rudely interrupts the reunion by crashing through the sun-porch doors, the gleaming and hefty hatchet in his hand. He swipes at Piper with a blow that should have whacked off her arm at the shoulder. Instead, Piper tumbles to the floor with a slight scratch on her bicep. Whatever. Grams dives to Piper's side as the Woodsman takes a swing at Raige, who instinctively cringes and orbs out, allowing the hatchet to embed itself in the wall. Raige rematerializes, and the Woodsman backhands her across the room. Meanwhile, the percolating infant knits up the wound on Piper's arm. If you ask me, that's a pretty nifty evolutionary adjustment to external threats for the brat, but if they overuse it -- which they will -- it's going to become incredibly annoying. Then again, this development tends to push the Dolt further into irrelevance as far as the Glamorous Ladies are concerned, and any development that reduces Dolt screen-time is fine by me. The Woodsman retrieves his hatchet and hoists it above his head to relieve Piper of hers. Piper shrieks and freaks and flings out her hands. The Woodsman howls and explodes in a gout of flame, leaving the hefty hatchet to drop to the floor. Piper grunts, "What the hell was that?" Yep. Exactly.