The no-longer-demonic boy toy greets Phoebe and Raige. Phoebe pleasantly razzes him over disappearing from the Manor that morning without telling her. She moves in for a clinch and, for lack of a better way to put this, feels something hard in his pants. Cole steps back and whips a nickel-plated automatic from his waistband. I blush. He's terribly pleased with himself, but the gals are simply terrified. A tiresome PSA follows about the dangers of keeping guns in the house and blah but Cole needs a way to protect himself and his woman and blee and Phoebe will not live in a house with a gun and bleck and shut it already. All of you. The Dolt orbs in to interrupt the conversation. Never did I think I'd be happy to see the Dolt. He comes bearing ill tidings of a rash of disappearing muses. The Powers That Be, needless to say, are most disturbed by this turn of events in the supernatural realm. Only a "very powerful [Eeevil]" could do such a thing. Cole lifts an eyebrow and intones, "Factions." Just then, Cocky's pot-smoking companion blinks in off to the side to spy on the gathering. Phoebe and Raige decide to call the decorator for the party from the Jeep on their way back to the Manor. They pause long enough for Phoebe to wrest the automatic from Cole's hand. Over his shout of protest, Phoebe passes the weapon to the Dolt, asking him to orb it over to Darryl. The Dolt shoots Cole a filthy look, like, shut up, Dolt. Last time I checked, it was still legal to own a firearm. Not that I approve of firearms in the home, you must understand, but still. Cole hasn't shot anyone yet, so cram it. Phoebe, Raige, and Cole head up the stairs as the Dolt orbs out. Over in his alcove, the stoner morphs up into Dolt form and blinks out.
Manor attic. Piper stands at the Book of Shadows, perusing the entry on muses as Phoebe and Raige clomp in from the stairs. Phoebe's first question regards Piper's assigned task of creating a protection potion. Piper hasn't had a chance to perfect it, but she does thank Phoebe and Raige for their successful work with Bev. The three cluster around the Book to read the muses' Beaux-Arts-style entry. Muses are "[b]eings of pure light whose sole purpose is to inspire people's passion and creativity. Like angels, they guide us with an unseen hand of Inspiration. Unlike Whitelighter's [sic, and I know that's going to drive Sars nuts], Muses are invisible even to their charges and can only be seen by other angelic beings." As Phoebe wonders aloud how invisible beings could be a target for dark demonic forces, a glowy muse fades into the attic behind her. You know, I'm torn. I could call her Miss Clio. Or Eroto. Or Erratic, or Thalidomide, or any potty-related variation on "Urania." However, for some reason it's down to a choice between Eutwerpe and Twerpsichore. Since Euterpe was the muse in charge of music and the harebrained writing staff has seen fit to assign this character the name "Melody," Eutwerpe it is. In answer to Phoebe, Piper notes that asking a muse herself might be a good start. Unfortunately, Piper has no idea how to summon a muse. Eutwerpe takes control of the situation by laying a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. Phoebe bursts out with the following rhyme: