Evil eyes, look unto thee --
May they soon extinguished be.
Bend thy will to the Power of Three,
Eye of earth, evil and accursed.
Prue's hand glows up into a replica of The Hand Of Fatima from the Book of Shadows and shoots a ray of white light into THE JAV-NAH's chest. Prue's going to be in so much trouble with those cranky, blind, senile Saudi clerics for that one. Javna, rather than disappearing into a veil of flame, disintegrates into a cloud of ash.
Back in the Manor, Elder Brittany morphs into The Big Bleached Blonde.
The gals, meanwhile, escape The Warehouse Of Evil just as Andy and Darryl pull up with a few black-and-whites. The gals make excuses, the boys can't find Pecker, and everyone goes home -- but not before Andy's manly suspicions are aroused. Just tell him, already. Please? Christ. Or perhaps that should be "Allah."
I wonder how much it costs to go into hiding in London? Maybe Connie can put me up for free. After all, it is her fault. Isn't it?
[aid=s], the next day. The Ps gather at the bar for The Weekly Summation. None of Pecker's victims remember what happened to them, Phoebe admits she shouldn't go whoring around with every guy who wants to nail her, Piper's happy she's a good witch and not a bad witch, and Prue thinks Andy's hot little body is dreamy. Or something like that. As last night's winning lottery numbers appear on the TV screen overhead, Phoebe frantically rummages around in her purse for her ticket. Yes, she picked the right numbers, but the ink on the ticket vanishes before her eyes, proving Prue's earlier assertion that the Book expressly forbids intentionally using one's powers for personal gain. "Oh, well," Phoebe sighs, "at least the old couple didn't lose their house." Should I? Okay: Shut up, Phoebe. If you hadn't bought a ticket for yourself, the old people would have won the entire ten million. Now, because of you, they're walking away with half that, the other half is going to go unclaimed, and eventually Gray Davis will suck that five million out of the state's education fund to throw it at Enron when the botched deregulation of California's power industry allows those fuckers to gouge state officials for emergency electricity. Happy? Bitch. Needless to say, the gals ignore me, choosing instead to toast the Power of Three as we fade to black.
In the next episode, the Original Glamorous Ladies of Halliwell Manor meet their new shapeshifting neighbors across the street while getting a surprise visit from Joey Buttafuoco. Stay cool in the summer heat, kids, and remember: Don't go into the water for at least half an hour after you've eaten. You'll get a cramp.