Opening travelogue. Tonight's ovary, unusually enough, has lovely diction. Hooray! Unfortunately, the first words out of her mouth are, "I still got sand in my shoes and I can't shake the thought of you," which makes absolutely no fucking sense, so shut up, Travelogue Ovary. The camera zooms around the Bay Area for a bit before shuddering backwards over the downtown area into a cross-fade over to the Manor. Up in the nonexistent attic, the Dolt grips the deadly demonic boomerang in one hand while abusing the Book of Shadows with the other, searching for an entry on their recent leatherbound invader. Piper enters with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a white cloth and asks not unkindly, "Why aren't you sitting down? You got hit." "It's just a scratch," the Dolt replies dismissively before noting that he thinks "the crescent" he now holds "might be tribal." Piper, not having it, draws him away from the Book's stand to ease him into an armchair, all the while fretting about his inability to self-heal and basically ordering him to butt out of matters demonic from now on. "Demons try to kill us every week," the Dolt protests. "What do you want me to do -- go hide in [Not!warts]?" Well, I'm all for that, as long as it keeps you off my damn television screen. Piper agrees with me, though I'm sure her motivation is a bit less hostile. "It's a thought," she shoots back at him. "I was kidding!" the Dolt furrows incredulously. "Well, I'm not," Piper sighs, setting the peroxide on a side table. "You've only got one life to live, and I'd like you to start taking care of it." "I didn't become mortal to run and hide," the Dolt counters firmly. "I'm staying put." Piper wiggles her eyebrows around in frustration, but remains silent.
Somewhat less silent is the dead-eyed and normally mute Psycho, who's suddenly appeared in the doorway to bleat, "Deh-deh." I think those syllables this time around were part of the longer line, "I have at last succeeded in slaughtering my younger, soon-to-be-prettier brother! He's dead, do you hear me? Dead! Dead!" that the Psycho would have delivered were he not also, in addition to being a sociopath, profoundly retarded. Seriously. The kid's almost three years old, and he's still not talking? Exactly how many times has the stupid, bumbling Dolt dropped this kid on its head? The Dolt, eager to escape Piper's disapproving glare, leaps from the armchair to cross to his murderous son, who seems unnaturally preoccupied with something on the floor. Something I'm willing to bet is one of poor, abused, and woefully neglected Tiny Gay Chris's dismembered toes. Which the Dolt missed during his earlier power-clean of the nonexistent room. Trust me on this one. The Dolt somehow manages to get the wee serial killer's temporary attention, and there's some babytalking from the Dolt before he wraps his elder, merciless, malignant offspring in his arms for a hug. The Psycho -- natch -- remains expressionless. God, I hate kids on TV. Even the ones I secretly fear. Piper, still crouched by the armchair, watches the two of them with a sort of wistful concern.
Not!warts. Raige spins in the chair at her desk in the headmistress's office like the preadolescent mental midget she's become over the last three years, blathering something to herself about "advanced magical orbing" and whether she should schedule it on Tuesdays or Thursdays. I so do not care. Piper ambles into the doorway with the deadly demonic boomerang, and there follows an unfunny bit wherein Raige convinces Piper to hurl the thing at the huge parchment calendar page behind the desk so that it might make her scheduling decision for her. God, I hate this show. Piper snarks something about "the future of magic being in such capable hands" that comes across far more teasing than snide, but really. It's long past time someone called the utterly incompetent Raige on her bullshit. In any event, Piper quickly cuts to the chase, informing Raige of the attack earlier that morning and of the Dolt's resulting injury. She'd like Raige to scry for the leatherbound invader with the boomerang while she herself heads back to the Manor to "protect" the Dolt, and hey! How the hell did Piper get to Not!warts, anyway? A spell? That asinine portal we haven't seen in well over a year? No, wait, I've got it: She just cabbed it over to Columbus Avenue, right? Rrrrgh. Whatever. We'll never find out, so I'm not going to waste any more space on the matter.