After a bit of chat regarding Aviva's absent mother, Kali asks if Aviva's ready to receive the "sacred power." "You know I am," Aviva replies with a grin. Kali warns Aviva not to use the power without Kali's consent, then instructs her to stretch her hands towards the mirror. Aviva's palms glow orange as their owner gasps and pants a bit. Kali then orders Aviva over to Halliwell Manor for some more surveillance work. Aviva leaps to her feet, snatches her jacket from the hook on the closet door, and races out of her room. Once she's gone, Kali drops her head, and a veil of flame appears at her feet to rise up through the mirror until the light therein has shifted from light blue to a blazing yellow. Kali lifts her head, and the camera zooms in on her face so we can appreciate the colored contacts they shoved into the actress's head. Her irises are cat's-eye yellow with blood-red whites backing them up. Kali smiles. Evilly.
Manor. Piper sits in the parlor, riffling through a sheaf of "Lost Cat" flyers featuring Kit's annoyed little face. Didn't have to wait very long for an answer to my question, did I? The camera tracks back to take in the Dolt (Aauuuugh!) striding into the parlor from the sun porch. He's wearing a green t-shirt over a faded pair of Levi's, with a toolbelt. Shut up, Dolt. Piper eyes him as he crosses to the mantelpiece and removes the screen. He kneels on the carpet and shoves his head into the fireplace, and oh God, what I wouldn't give for the logs to ignite spontaneously. Doesn't happen. What I do get is a twenty-second-long Piper POV of his denim-clad ass, as if last week's episode weren't hideous enough and I deserve further torture at the hands of Connie & Co. All of you jackholes at Spelling Television can blow me. Oh, and: Shut up, Dolt's ass.
Phoebe enters, and the two ladies "admire" the view while letting us know that the Dolt is actually searching for Kit in the fireplace. Moron. Of course, he finds nothing but clumps of ash packed against the sides of the chimney, so he withdraws from the flue to ask if they've tried the animal shelter. They have, but no one has seen their gender-confused familiar with the distinctive triquatra-engraved collar. Piper rises to her feet to ask if the Dolt would like something to eat. "I'm sure you must be hungry after all that work." The Dolt pshaws with a smile. I must admit, Brian Krause looks almost boyish in these early episodes. He's obviously one of those guys -- you know, the kind of guy who wanders through far too many of his adult years looking like a college sophomore until one day all of the keg parties and bong hits and tanning sessions catch up with him and suddenly, overnight, he looks like a haggard, wizened rent boy several decades past his expiration date. See Woody Harrelson for another example of this unfortunate phenomenon. Kerr Smith? We're counting the hours, you jackass. Anyway, Phoebe snickers and, still trying to get herself a little Dolt action, instructs the idiot to think of Piper as his mother, what with the smothering offers of food and such. Piper shoots Phoebe a scorching side-eye that by all rights should boil the saline right out of her implants. The Dolt guhs that he'll take Piper up on her offer after he's hung some of the "Lost Cat" flyers around the neighborhood. He then dolts his way right into the forgotten fireplace screen, nearly falling face-first over the thing just so we can get a few more shots of his ass. Once he's wandered from the room, Phoebe swoons, "Quite possibly the finest glutes in the city." "In the state," Piper amends. "In all the land," Phoebe finishes with appropriate hand gestures. Don't make me hurt you, ladies. Knock it off. Both of you.