A time for everything
And everything in place:
Return what's been moved
Through time and space.
Godiva vanishes, only to return ten seconds in the past, so we have to rerun through this whole scene again with two of her until the Douchebag repeats that spell and sends both of them back, only they return ten seconds in the past, so we have to rerun through this whole scene again with three of her until the Douchebag repeats that spell, only they return ten seconds in the past, and so on, and so forth, until the sun grows ancient and explodes, obliterating us all, because that spell? Is a Power Of Motherfucking Three from the first season. I hate this show.
Of course, that's not what happens. The spell formerly known as a Power of Three works the first time around, and Godiva dissolves into her sparkly spray of twinkly golden mojo to return to the illustration in the history book. Which still includes that image of Hoover. Whatever. Q orbs down at this juncture for some inexplicable reason and long story short, the ever-useless Elders have decided to keep Not!warts open. As if closing it were ever really an option on this show. The thing is, Raige must run the place as Snidely's successor. Q doesn't even wait for Raige's reply before orbing out of there. Q, my friend, you do realize this dizzy bimbo can't even define the word "flogging," don't you? Why are you putting her in charge of a goddamned school?
Oh, shit. Piper hustles across an intersection to arrive at the sidewalk café from the pre-credits sequence. "This better be good," she gripes as she reaches Raige's side. "Yeah," Raige snorts, redirecting Piper's attention further down the street. "It looks like Lady Godiva had quite an impact on our Phoebe's cause." Piper's shock, disgust, outrage, and revulsion at what she sees very nearly matches mine. But not quite. We cut to a shot of various pedestrians gaping in abject horror before cutting again to brief glimpses of what is causing the general distress. A bare foot in a stirrup. A leg. A hip clearly unencumbered by clothing, with the butt cheek partially obscured by the bottom bits of a long, blonde wig. A shot of bareback, horseback, crappily bewigged Phoebe from behind as she guides the nag over to the sidewalk café. And then, finally, a pan up Milano's torso through some terrifyingly bony cleavage to Phoebe's grinning rictus of a face. The café's manager emerges onto the sidewalk to get an earful from the Feebs about how he's living in the eleventh century and he wants women barefoot and pregnant and to stay at home and how breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world and the crowd starts cheering her and there's a mime. Yes, there's a goddamned mime in the midst of the throng, applauding as lustily as anyone else. I hate this show. HATE. "It's a shame that women have to take off their clothes to be heard," Phoebe speechifies. "We shouldn't have to be exploited like this." So why hell are you working for Aaron Spelling? The manager, after far too much of this bullshit, finally caves and removes the sign from the window as Phoebe grins at Piper and Raige before swinging the horse around and riding off down the street with the entire throng trailing behind her and cheering. The breeze catches the bottom of the wig, and it lifts long enough to reveal the bulky flesh-colored diaper Milano wore for this scene. I want to die.