Dining room. Cole asks the Dolt for a favor, "man-to-man." NO! Not like that. Christ, not like that. The Dolt assumes that Cole wants him to speak to Phoebe about the marriage thing. The Dolt even does a couple of jocular punching motions against Cole's torso as he makes this assumption. It would be cute if I didn't hate him so much. Cole actually wants the Dolt to orb him down to Hell. The stoner used purloined demonic powers to attack the Halliwells -- a transgression punishable in certain Hell circles by death. A demon confab should be convening at that very moment to debate the fate of Cocky The Wonderlock and his minions. All Cole and the Dolt need do is get close enough to eavesdrop. The Dolt hesitates, but all of his reservations melt away when Cole slings a manly arm around his shoulders. Locked in this half embrace, the Dolt grabs Cole's hand and the two orb out. I do not appreciate the implications of that scene at all, and you slash fans out there know exactly what I'm talking about.
Attic. Phoebe paces as she recites the vanquish she's composed:
A warlock is a funny thing.
He blinks from place to place.
And when we say these words to him,
His face they will erase.
"Sounds more like a limerick than a spell," is Raige's evaluation. No, you dimwit. It doesn't sound like a limerick at all. A limerick would sound more like this:
There once was a bimbo named Paige
Whose half-witted mind was her cage.
With words injudicious
And ignorance vicious,
Demian she sought to enrage.
Phoebe scraps her spell and sits to begin again. Raige, meanwhile, diligently sketches out Cocky's image according to Eutwerpe's instruction. Eutwerpe also lays a little science on the two Ps on the topics of muses and art. Muses aren't responsible for an artist's drive, talent, or will, nor do they claim responsibility for the finished product. Also, "art isn't about perfection -- it's about expression." "The key," according to Eutwerpe, "is simply to love it." Can it, Eutwerpe. Fortunately, Piper enters the attic with three vials of the new potion at this moment, and I don't have to put up with the drivel spilling from the mouth of this "muse" any longer. Phoebe offers the following for Piper's approval:
[Eeevil] is a faithful foe
But good does battle best.
We witches will with these words
Waste the warlock's [Eeevil] zest.
According to Piper, the spell is "witty, but wordy." Nevertheless, it will have to do. Phoebe passes copies to her sisters as Piper distributes the vials. Raige's completed rendering of Cocky is accurate enough to allow her to summon The Mood Ring from the drawing's finger. Hey! Pipe down back there. By now you should know better than to question the dictates of The Great And Powerful Kern -- no matter how nonsensical and contrived said dictates are. Of course it's mind-bendingly asinine to believe that Raige could summon an object she's never seen from a drawing of a man she's never met. You, of course, may feel free to tear at your hair because of this. I choose to go bald naturally. Anyway, the plan is to lure Cocky to the attic by stealing The Mood Ring. Once he's there, the gals will smash the vials at his feet. The resulting explosion will irritate Cocky's eyes, depriving him of his ability to blink. Once he's thus disabled, the sisters will recite the vanquishing spell. Phoebe decides the boys need to witness their triumph. She crosses to the door, shouting Cole's name. No answer. Duh.
Hell. "High Council Meeting Quarters." Anonymous dark demonic forces wander to and fro. Cole and the Dolt crouch behind an outcropping of volcanic rock. A hand unexpectedly clamps down on Cole's shoulder from behind. "You two lost?" the hand's owner inquires. Cole swivels his head cautiously. Upon recognizing the gentleman demon as "Rake," Cole rises to his feet to greet him. Rake: "Didn't I hear you were dead?" Cole: "Yeah, and unfortunately I have to stay that way." Cole knifes Rake, who vanishes in a pillar of fire. For reasons unknown, the Dolt decides to call Cole on this. "He seemed like a friend," quoth the Dolt. Cole coolly replies that to Belthazor the demon, Rake was indeed a friend; to Cole the human, not so much. "Feels different?" the Dolt continues, refusing to drop the issue. "Killing? Now that you're human?" Cole tells the Dolt to zip it and keep an eye the demonic confab. The purpose of this exchange is unclear, and for some reason I doubt that it will ever be mentioned again.