"Hold it!" Piper orders as Phoebe advances to wonder what gives. Raige mugs her way through an explanation of the situation, allowing that her meeting "kinda went long, got a little boring, and the kids? They grew restless." "So they conjured a sex object?" Phoebe caterwauls. "I am not a sex object!" Godiva sniffily protests. "I was riding through town in my natural state to protest my husband's unjust taxes!" Yeah, we'll get to that one in a second, you bint. At this moment, though, Piper's bagel pops up out of the toaster, and I cringe in anticipation of tonight's "What's a zoo?" equivalent from this scantily clad medieval hussy. It doesn't come -- yet -- but Godiva, fascinated by the appliance, edges around the center island to examine it more closely while Piper grits her teeth and, much annoyed, exasperates for the retarded in the audience that Godiva must be sent back to finish her ride, as the repercussions would likely be dire should she not. Raige's Moustache -- hello, my dusky friend -- aggravates that she gets it, and that she's more worried about the likely shuttering of Not!warts. Piper, God love her, peeves that altering the course of history is just a wee bit more important than that stupid fucking magic school. Just then the blender roars to life, and the frisky-fingered Godiva shrieks in fright and hops back a couple of paces. Piper chases the dim, badly bewigged "blonde" back to Raige's side and sighs, "On the other hand, how much history could a naked woman on horseback really affect?" Excellent question, Piper, and I have an answer for you: none. None whatso-fucking-ever, especially when you consider the fact that the whole ride is a tawdry, Church-sponsored myth to begin with. The real Lady Godiva owned Coventry outright. What does this mean? It means that her husband had no way of imposing or collecting taxes himself, and that if Godiva thought the peasants were tithing too much, she could have taken care of it herself without stripping off her clothes. Unless, you know, she was into that sort of thing, but what scant evidence we do have indicates she was not the eleventh-century equivalent of Gypsy Rose Lee. ("Her name's Louise!") So, while the Godiva on the show predictably protests that her non-existent ride was indeed quite important, I'll not be paying any attention to anything she or any of the other idiots might have to say on the matter, because the whole stupid thing is a sexist lie to begin with. So there. Nyaaah! Raige finally exits the room with Godiva in tow as Piper flings her hands in the air and sighs, "See? We have bigger naked breasts to worry about." "[Raige] has her naked breasts to worry about," Phoebe corrects. "I've got yours." Piper, already as sick of this episode as I am, wearily calls out once more for the stupid Dolt before dropping her head in agony and disgust.