Previously, on Charmed: Dude, it just ended three minutes ago. Has your brain been so fried by this garbage that you need a reminder from me?
We fade back up where we left off: With Big Gay Chris receiving heaping helpings of abuse from The Specially Enhanced Glamorous Ladies Of Halliwell Manor. Piper whines that, "outside of a costume party," she can't possibly be expected to battle evil in her current outfit. Big Gay Chris exposits that their togas are part and parcel of their enhanced powers. He then goes on to clarify for the utter morons in the audience that Raige is now The Goddess Of War, and Phoebe is The Goddess Of Tawdry One-Night Stands In Cheap Motels Out By The Airport. Or, you know, "Love." It's your call. Piper interrupts to snark, "Well, that must make me The Goddess Of Sanity, because I find this ridiculous." You're not the only one, honey. "Actually, Mom," Chris responds patiently, "Dad gave you dominion over the earth and all of its natural elements." Maybe he said "Piper" and "[the Dolt]" in place of "Mom" and "Dad," but I heard the latter. Phoebe skanks up to Chris, twists her hair "girlishly" around a finger, and skeeves, "Do you have a girlfriend in the future?" Chris is like, "Feebs? Scabby hag? Yeah, for one thing, I'm your goddamned nephew, and for another, I'm gay, so get those horrific Fun Bags out of my face. Ew!"
Or maybe he just snorts dismissively. Lord, this is going to be a long hour.
Chris reminds the Glamorous Goddesses not to lose sight of their fundamental humanity -- a distinct possibility, given their new power levels, and something that kept the ever-useless Elders from unleashing The Mythological Mojo after the mistake they originally made with the mortals we now know as pantheon of Greek gods. As you can tell from Phoebe's behavior, she's already losing a good deal of herself to her new powers. Oh, who am I trying to kid? Phoebe's always this inappropriate and slutty. Raige is a better example of what I just described, as she's having far too much fun waving her trident around like she means business. In fact, she attacks Big Gay Chris from behind (no comment), and hoists him into the air by his snagging his shirt on the end of her weapon. After a mercifully brief castration "joke," Chris orbs off the trident to the other side of the room. He urges them to remain focused on vanquishing the Titans, reminding them that in his original timeline, all of the Elders were slaughtered, and life as we know it really began to suck, what with the Republicans repealing the constitutional amendment on presidential term limits -- that they pushed through in the first place after the endless humiliations visited upon their national party courtesy of Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman -- so Dubya could be reelected and reelected and reelected by a public beaten down to subhuman levels of intelligence as a result of countless hours of exposure to reality programming, Rupert Murdoch's media empire, and Hilary Duff movies, thereby allowing the national embarrassment from Texas to stack the federal courts with terrifying theocrats like that fuckbat Rick Santorum. Also: No smoking in bars. Anywhere. Hateful, isn't it?
Raige makes it through Chris's considerably tidier speech, then vanquishes the upright piano over in the corner. Piper's furious, and insists that her husband "must have lost it up there," because her addled siblings "can't be seen in public" in their current condition, much less be expected to battle three-thousand-year-old demonic entities. Aphrophoebe naturally takes this as her cue to spin away to The Bay Mirror's charity bachelor auction at P3. She takes off in a small pink whirlwind that shoots out a giant Valentine's heart, as if her method of transportation were designed by the same graphic "artists" who gave us Love, American Style's opening credits sequence thirty-five years ago. Rathena gets a crazed look in her eyes, and bolts out of the Manor to gather some bootlicking toadies of her own. No, seriously. She disappears in a blaze of blue lightning bolts. Piper freaks, and demands that Chris orb after them. Chris is all, "Sorry, Mom. That's your job." The Dolt turned Piper into a latter-day Demeter to provide the Glamorous Goddesses with some of that earthy-crunchy Mother Nature balance. Piper snots something about already having a Whitelighter to lecture and guide her, and that if said Whitelighter wants her to go after her stupid sisters, he can damn well come down from Heaven and tell her himself. "You want Dad?" Chris retorts. "Then vanquish the Titans. If you can't do that, then you'll find out what a world of darkness feels like." "My world," he reminds her after a beat, for emphasis. Piper, finally, has been struck dumb. Thank you, Big Gay Chris!