Phoebe rashly decides to don the pumps to prove Cole's involvement. Raige counsels caution, as they can't be certain it's not some other demonic force promoting the attacks. Unfortunately for Raige, Grams nixes this idea, arguing that they can't loll around the Manor waiting for the next evil character to burst through a window. Piper, ever the sheep, follows Grams's lead, and urges Phoebe to try on the shoes. Phoebe slips the things onto her feet. Almost immediately, the pumps glow white, and a shimmering spiral of glowing pixie dust swirls up her body as Walt Disney's heirs speed-dial their lawyers to file breech-of-copyright lawsuits against Brad Kern. I, meanwhile, speed-dial my lawyer to file a pain-and-suffering lawsuit against Eilish for the unspeakable monstrosity masquerading as a ball gown that now assaults my senses. Phoebe's ensemble nearly beggars description, and quite frankly seems better suited for a belly dancer. A low-rent, talent-free, syphilitic hag of a belly dancer, but you get my drift. The outfit consists of a backless, strapless, midriff-baring opalescent bodice piece, connected to a foofy, bustled, be-bowed train, dangling over a white miniskirt, accented with tiers of silver lame ruffles that descend to the floor from her right hip. What remains of her hair has been fried into something approximating ringlets. It astounds me that even after all this time, they can still come up with new ways to horrify me.
In any event, the Lucite pumps take on a life of their own, forcing Phoebe to goose-step towards the attic door against her will. The goose-stepping, of course, means that we're all threatened with inadvertent exposure to Phoebe's cooter, so I'll be averting my eyes for most of the following scene. Piper and Raige swarm to Phoebe's side, tugging valiantly at her arms to keep her in the attic. Grams hollers at them to let Phoebe go, the argument being that the shoes should lead Phoebe to the source of their current woes. Piper and Raige release her, and Phoebe clomps out to the stairs like Elsa Lanchester on crystal. Raige tags along after her, the better to orb her back to the Manor should anything go wrong. Piper and Grams hang back to research a Cloris vanquish in Piper's Big Book Of Fairy Tales.
While all of this nonsense transpires at the Manor, Freddie Prinze Charming Junior, clad in a tuxedo and nattering into a cell phone, wanders through the old Buckland's set to an elevator. He enters the car alone. Cloris smokes in, latches onto his neck with her plum-colored Press-On nails, and plants a big, sloppy wet one on his lips. Prinze Charming's face flares yellow as his eyes glaze over. "How can I serve you, my queen?" he monotones. Cloris instructs him to "meet Cinderella at the ball" and to "make sure she's in the carriage at midnight." Should he fail in his assigned task, she'll kill him, or something.