Sun porch. Raige reclines on the wicker love seat, massaging her pained temples and groaning while Phoebe scries once more for Piper. "I am getting tired of this whole soul-separating-from-my-body thing," she grumps, rising to a sitting position. "It's getting to be a disturbing pattern." The Dolt opines the gals were lucky he arrived when he did, as their "souls were getting ready to move on." "Move on to where, exactly?" Raige teases with a grin. "Nice try," he returns with a smile of his own. The three bang their heads together and quickly realize the best way to divest Piper of her Arthurian fantasy is to present her with the sword's true recipient. But just who could that recipient be? Hmmm. Oh, what's that? Tiny Gay Chris has something unintelligible to add to the conversation by loudly mewling from the depths of his product-placed playpen? Raige is the first to realize that Tiny Chris is actually Prince Arthur, and Phoebe quickly agrees. Unfortunately, Brian Krause decides to unleash The Constipated Chimpanzee Face Of Unbearable Anguish And Torment at this moment, so we must watch as the Dolt doubles over in empathic pain the instant he senses Piper elsewhere in the city. Meanwhile, Phoebe's scrying crystal slams down on Harding Park, which, I've learned in the two days it took me to finish this, is actually next to Lake Merced, a bit down the Pacific coast from the city center. The Dolt orbs out with the Feebs while Raige hangs back to wrangle Tiny Chris from his pen.
Over in the park, Piper slowly expires on the grass as Morgaunt, hovering above, taunts her. The second the Dolt orbs in with Phoebe, Morgaunt swirls away to inflict some grievous bodily injury upon Tiny Gay Chris. The Dolt scampers over to the ex-wife and applies the tingly touch. She heals so suddenly and completely that her head snaps off the ground. "Where's [Tiny Chris]?" she demands.
Back on the sun porch, Morgaunt stalks over to the product-placed playpen and sighs, "My apologies. I guess it just wasn't meant to be." He hoists the sword into the air and plunges it down through the swaddled figure at the bottom of the pen. Of course, it's actually Crusty Ted, whom Raige had wrapped in a blanket. "Oh!" Raige sings, orbing in on the far side of the room with Tiny Gay Chris. "That was his favorite teddy bear." Liar. The Dolt orbs in with Piper and the Feebs. As Piper collects Tiny Chris from Raige, she sardonically parrots Morgaunt's earlier line: "Bet you didn't expect this when you got up this morning." "B-but I've still got Excalibur!" he splutters. "Go for it," the Dolt hisses at Tiny Chris. The creepily affectless infant sort of blinks in Morgaunt's general direction, and the sword dissolves into a cloud of orbs that reforms in mid-air in front of the kid's face. Tiny Chris then turns his head slightly, and the sword flies across the room to plant itself in Morgaunt's chest. Piper, to her credit, seems to be as appalled with her sociopath of a toddler as I am. Morgaunt steams and smokes and erupts into a ball of fire. The sword remains suspended for a moment before digging into the linoleum. "Oooo-kay, sweetie," Piper begins. "That's very, very good. But we need to put this thing away before you put an eye out." Heh. With Tiny Chris balanced on one of her hips, Piper crosses to lift the sword from the floor and replace it in its niche in the papier-mâché boulder. "Think you can orb this into the attic?" Piper asks Raige. "Sure!" Raige perks. For those of you so interested, Raige displays a definite power progression by simply gesturing with her hand to send the fake rock upwards in a cloud of orbs, rather than calling for it as she normally does. "Away from any furniture?" Piper warns. A loud, crashing noise from above answers that question. "Sorry," Raige grimaces. Everyone giggles, except for the murderous psycho masquerading as a toddler. Christ, that vacant little brat is spooky.