The Only Hospital In San Francisco. Piper's not doing so well, but both she and her doctor remain unnaturally optimistic. He exits to order another ultrasound, giving spectral Barbas an opportunity to flicker into the room and fuck with Piper's mind. As her greatest fear now involves losing her sisters, and yes, that was Phoebe's greatest fear the first time he showed up, and no, I don't remember what Piper's previous fears were, but you know what? Neither do the writers, so who cares? Now, where was I? Oh, yeah: Barbas conjures a hallucination in which Phoebe and Raige storm into the room to insist that Snidely's evil and must therefore be destroyed. A trio of ever-useless Elders immediately orbs in from above to raise their arms and incinerate Phoebe and Raige with streams of fire they shoot from their hands. As the hallucination blinks out, Barbas leans in close to whisper into Piper's ear, "You have to help them conform -- save them from themselves before it's too late and you lose them forever." Piper considers her options, then reaches for a notepad as Barbas flickers out with a grin on his face. Piper scribbles out the following, which she reads aloud:

Call now the powers Blessed Be
To make my sisters happy!

Cut to the nonexistent Manor attic, where Big Gay Chris is still scrying for Snidely as the Dolt paces impotently back and forth on the carpet. Raige and Phoebe orb in from Not!warts and beeline towards the Book of Shadows for a little abuse. The boys join them at the stand as they quickly relate the circumstances of their chat with their Bizarro counterparts. Before they can elaborate on the proposed course of action, however, a pinkish glow suffuses their bodies as Piper's spell takes effect. "What just happened?" Big Chris side-eyes in the Dolt's direction. "Dunno," replies the Dolt. Typical. Phoebe and Raige, looking a bit drunk, beam beatifically as Chris urges them to get back to their plan. "The plan?" Phoebe breathes. "It's just to go see Piper in the hospital!" "That's a really good plan!" Raige squeals, and now they're acting like they're stoned off their fricking gourds. The gals snicker and doof as Chris bites, "Uh oh." The perplexity of the Dolt dominates the screen for an instant before The Clarion Clarinet Of What's With The Wacky Hijinks When My Poor Pretty Husband's About To Die? tootles us into the commercial break.