Hello, Excruciatingly Lengthy, Awkward, And Ultimately Pointless Scene Between Piper And The Recruiter That I Do Not Have To Recap! Shame, really, because Holly Marie Combs plays Piper's hesitance and indecisiveness about her new life quite well here, but the whole thing's just a set-up for the character's impending Maya-related crisis, so whatever. Said crisis, incidentally, is precipitated when the recruiter, post-interview, forwards Piper's glamoured identity's online resume -- complete with a digital photograph of "Jenny Bennett" taken right there in the office -- for a "pro-forma" background check. The cunning cinematographer has conspired with the idiots in the properties department to photograph the recruiter's computer screen just blurrily enough so we can't make out the specifics of Jenny's recently concocted past, but it is clear that the idiots in the properties department got the Manor's address wrong. Oh, and Jenny received her MA from "The Culinary School Of Newark." Hee. ["There is actually a Newark Culinary School in Newark, DE. Yes, I Googled it. Shut up." -- Sars] Anyway, the recruiter sends the information off through a miserable and unnecessary effects sequence that I've chosen to ignore -- aside from mentioning that it's worse, even, than any of that trippy Webverse crap from Hackers -- until said information finally arrives on a monitor at a place called "Background Security, Inc." Some hoagie-snorting dweeb with greasy hair and a polyester tie taps a few commands into the keyboard, and some Whatever Technology scans a database for Jenny's facial features. What? Don't look at me like that. That's what's happening. No, I don't know who came up with this crap. Leave me alone. The Whatever Technology quickly identifies a match, because this is television, where even massive databases of digitized fingerprints soon shoot out the specs on likely suspects in seconds, and that match is just as quickly revealed to be "Maya Holmes," the jujitsu expert and alleged murderess from the pre-credits sequence. D'oh! Um. Again! The hoagie-snorting dweeb snatches up his handset, punches a few numbers into the keypad, and barks, "We've got a problem!"