The Dolt jumps up from the love seat to announce that he has to get back "up there," and wonders if Phoebe can handle the current sitch without Piper. And just where is Piper? Why, on a date with Greg The Hilton-Screwing Fireman, of course. Big Gay Chris freaks. "Greg the fireman?" he spits. "You mean, the one she's insanely sexually attracted to?" Oh, gross. I don't need to know that Piper has a sex life, okay? Any kind of sex life -- even if it's just in her head. I mean, ew, you know? Big Chris whips his head around to confront his worthless father. "Doesn't that bother you?" he shrills. The Dolt snippily vows that if it makes Piper happy, he's fine with it. Big Chris natters something about the "forbidden love thing" his parents had going for them back in the day, but the Dolt's not having it at all, and goes so far to admit that he's petitioned the other ever-useless Elders to send Big Chris back to the future. "Are you serious?" Phoebe splutters. "Even though Chris's intentions are good," the Dolt argues, "his methods have put us all at risk, so he's going back." "You mean you're abandoning me again," Chris whispers mopily. The Dolt dicks something by way of response and orbs out through the ceiling. Asswipe. The instant he's gone, Chris charges over to Phoebe, insisting, "I have to stop him!" Phoebe tells him to cool his jets -- she'll have a chat with the Dolt, and everything will be fine. Chris is all, "No, moron, not my dad -- Greg the fireman! He's about to sleep with my mom!" Chris dissolves into a cloud of orbs that begins to rise as Phoebe stupidly calls out, "I wish you wouldn't do that!" Saba promptly presses her palms together, nods her head, and blinks. Big Chris reforms on the sun porch with, "What just happened?" "Your wish is my command, Master," Saba reminds the Feebs with much pointing of servile index fingers.

Off-screen, Raige barges through the front door with, "All right! Where's the genie?" Phoebe skedaddles to intercept her in the front parlor, Saba trailing closely behind. Raige, who's rather fetchingly clad in a long-sleeved, emerald-green, loose-fitting top with an asymmetrical neckline, enters the parlor to enthuse, "You landed one!" "She's a genie," Phoebe deadpans, "not a trout." Saba gets frisky with the exposition, reminding Phoebe she has two wishes left and suggesting she reserve one of them for Bosk. She claims that Phoebe can't defeat the demon without use of genie magic, as Bosk has that assy special effect that makes him look like a midget, as well as a gang of "forty thieves." "Thirty-eight," Phoebe corrects. "I vanquished two." Raige smirks that it's just like a demon to wish for a "crew" and a "nice ride," and wonders what his third wish will be. Just then, two large, diamond encrusted earrings flare into existence on Raige's lobes. "Did you do that?" Phoebe hisses at Saba. "No, but they are lovely!" Saba dreamily grins before rather politely inquiring as to the identity of Raige's personal "conjurer." It's Slampiece Buttfuck, of course, and according to Raige, he's been "showering [her] with gifts all week" ever since she tried and failed to convince him to bind his powers. You know, because of his mysterious and annoying problems with magic. Whatever. I can already tell there's a big, fat subplot I'll be ignoring this evening. Phoebe rolls her eyes and gets back to more important matters, repeating Raige's question regarding Bosk's third wish. "Zanbar!" Saba whispers in tones of exaggerated dread and dark portent. Phoebe and Raige are typically clueless, so Saba proceeds to describe Zanbar as "a lost city" that, "before it was swallowed by the desert," functioned as "the seat of power for an evil empire." And I have finally figured out who Saba sounds like: Edith Diaz as Rosa, Jacqueline Bisset's cracked Mexican cook in Scenes From The Class Struggle In Beverly Hills. It's probably why I -- irrationally, I'll admit -- like her so much. Rent the movie, if you can find it. It's screechingly funny, especially when Diaz tops off the brunch scene by going all mystical Aztec on Susan Saiger's unsuspecting ass. I'm giggling just thinking about it.