Siren Song

Episode Report Card
Demian: B | Grade It Now!
Siren Song

Hey, Strega! He's baaaaack! But then, you knew that already. Welcome to Sunday nights, Ms. S. The good news is you'll no longer be risking inadvertent exposure to Beverley Mitchell. The bad news?

Fade up on Miss Phoebe Halliwell, groaning and sweating in her bed. Before you all lunge for those escargot forks to poke out your eyes, relax, because it's not like that. Phoebe's actually groaning and sweating her way through a "Previously on Charmed" segment that's been cleverly disguised as a nightmare. The older footage that follows flashes onto the screen between shots of the Feebs thrashing her shredded coif about on her pillow, and yes, it's exactly as attractive as it sounds. Cole introduces himself to Phoebe and Prue, but Shannen Doherty's been PhotoShopped out of the frame. Cole grabs onto Phoebe's ankle, and something approximating love blooms. Cole shoves his tongue down Phoebe's throat, thereby marking his territory. Cole slowly raises a dagger over his head to plunge it into the Feeble One's ample, corseted breast. In the Cavern of the Bi Kraps, Cole shoots his hand out, grabbing Phoebe by the neck and pushing her against a wall. Cole protests, "I'm not evil anymore," and that could have come from any of at least twenty episodes, so no link for you. Cole slips a wedding ring onto Phoebe's finger. Cole and Phoebe arrive for their coronation. And, finally, the New And Improved Glamorous Ladies vanquish The Sole. As the concussion blast from the vanquish blows Casa del Sole's French doors outwards off their hinges, Phoebe bolts upright in bed, gasping.

The camera fades to an exterior shot of the Manor, then crosses over to the TransAmerica Pyramid as night melts into day. A humpbacked whale birthing triplets moans in agony as the shot cuts to an amply-endowed woman straddling a dangerously attractive surfer-gone-yuppie type on a bed. My apologies. According to the closed captioning, that's not a large aquatic mammal pumping out a trio of sea pups. It's actually a "woman humming," and you can knock it off with the filthy snickering, because both the lady and her conquest are fully clothed. The amply-endowed woman sports a brunette Bettie Page bob and some serious PVC bondage wear. Bettie slides her thumb along her gentleman's lips before jerking it away to announce, "It's time -- your wife is almost here." "Melissa," groans the dangerously-attractive yupster. "Yes," Bettie croons. "Didn't I mention? I always like to let the wives watch their men die." On cue, Mousy Missy and her drab twin set enter the bedroom to gawp. "David?" they bleat. Oh, see? There's your problem, honey. You should never have gotten involved with a guy named Dave. They're all worthless sluts -- every single one of them. As if to prove my sweeping generalization, Slutty Dave drags Bettie down onto the bed for a sizzling liplock. Of course, this being Charmed and all, that would be a sizzling of the literal sort. Smoke curls from the side of Slutty Dave's mouth, followed by a tiny burp of flame as Bettie releases her death grip on his neck and yanks her face away from his. Slutty Dave drops back, eyes and mouth agape, dead.

"Wow," Bettie goofs, wiping a bit of simmering spittle from the side of her mouth. "Your husband was so much fun!" Bettie grabs Mousy Missy by the brassiere and slings her across the room into a vanity. Bettie ambles over to the window and flutters her hand across the drapes as Mousy Missy wheezes on the carpet. The drapes burst into flames. Missy dives for her slutty dead Dave, but Bettie pulls her back by her hair to lay a little exposition on her mousy ass before leaving her to die. "I was burned for my sins," Bettie explains. "Only fair you should burn, too." Mousy Missy drops to the floor unconscious as Bettie smokes on out of there.

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