SunMoonStar is that feeling you get when you look into the mirror and realize you're having a fabulous hair day.
Speaking of fabulous hair days, we fade up on a sullen, whey-faced Goth chick who doesn't appear to have had a fabulous hair day in quite some time. As a matter of fact, with that tragic home dye job she's sporting, she won't be having fabulous hair days at any point in the foreseeable future, either. Her black lipstick and ebony nail polish indicate she's the sort of lumpen social outcast who will receive a Very Important Lesson About Life And Proper Beauty Techniques from the Glamorous Ladies of Halliwell Manor before the evening is over. That is, if she doesn't get bumped off before we hit the opening credits. So, the fashion miscarriage sits cross-legged within a circle of black candles beneath a full-length, free-standing mirror while fiddling with an idol of some sort, before pivoting to light the final candle in the circle. She then begins to chant, "Come to me, Kali -- I conjure thee, Kali." Kali, huh? Well, they've already pissed off the Muslims, so I suppose it's time the Hindus got their scanties in a wad as well. After a bit of the chanting, the miscarriage's full-length mirror glows blue, and a back-lit blonde with enormous, fried Knots Landing hair and a white Bonnie-Tyler-esque diaphanous frock materializes within the glass. The apparition appears to have shaved off her eyebrows and drawn them back in with a pencil, and her tits are fake. What? Oh, can it. The actress was a featured player on Baywatch. Do the friggin' math.
Once she's settled into the miscarriage's mirror, Kali coos, "I'm here, Aviva." Oh, Lord. "Aviva"? Apologies in advance if you share the character's name, but "Aviva" sounds like a line of beauty products one would find featured on QVC, which, given the wretched state of Aviva's 'do and the Siouxsie Sioux makeup she's plastered onto her face, is somewhat amusing. Well, somewhat more amusing than the other consumer item the name evokes, which would be a sporty little line of coupes marketed to young urban women. "Visit your local Chrysler dealer for zero money down and oh-point-oh financing on the 2003 Avivas today!" Despite her Knots Landing hair and those fake boobs, I have to credit the actress playing Kali for her mastery of that mellifluent, saccharine tone of voice beloved by all those women who end up playing fairy godmothers at some point in their careers. She sounds like Glinda The Good Witch would have if Billie Burke had refrained from huffing helium right before every take. From her seat on the carpet, Aviva rather desperately notes, "It's been over a week." Aviva's done everything Kali told her to do -- she's stalked the Glamorous Ladies and knows their "every move" -- what more could Kali want from her? Kali counsels patience. Everything Aviva has learned about the Ps will be put to use shortly. "You must make them want you as badly as you want them," Kali croons. A suspicious scratching at Aviva's closet door draws her attention away from the conversation for a moment. Hmmm. I wonder what clawed character on this show would be wanting to free himself from the closet? Aviva shrugs off the noise to tell the apparition that she spoke with her mother that afternoon. Kali, with an overly melodious voice, practically sings, "How is she?" Oh, yeah. Just from the line readings, you'd know she's some sort of foul demonic force, even if they hadn't given her the name of a fanged Hindu Hell-goddess who uses dead babies as earrings.