Back in the office, Cole pulls away from K'Feebs and shakes his head. Most of her lip gloss has taken up residence on his mouth. K'Feebs is good, Cole allows, but the One True Feebs is better. K'Feebs morphs back into K'Amaya, simpers, and boobs on out of there. I must admit, Alyssa Milano and the actress portraying K'Amaya have done a pretty good job matching up the tone of their line deliveries in this scene. Let's see how long it takes them to fuck it all up.
Lobby. The Mole spies Phoebe clomping out of the stairwell, mistakes her for K'Amaya in Feeb form, and wrestles her over to an alcove for a little browbeating. It's The Comedy Of Errors, you see. If you replace "Comedy" with "Torture" and "Errors" with "Demian." God alone knows why they're riffing on Oscar Wilde in the episode's title. And there I go again -- pretending that I care. Face! Speaking of faces, The Mole has his jammed into Phoebe's, spackling it with spittle as he snipes, "The leader of the Underworld will never have a whore as his queen." I'd say something like, "Shows how much you know about it, dork," but to the best of my knowledge, Phoebe never charged for it. "Did you just call me a whore?" Phoebe howls as K'Amaya boobs out of the elevator on her way to the street. The Mole goggles for a moment before flaring away with the One True Feebs in his arms.
Manor. Up in the dining room, the Dolt listens with mild alarm as Piper, Raige, and Raige's chartreuse shroud detail the distasteful mackery they witnessed in Cole's office. Raige, honey. Ditch the shroud already, will you? Please? The Dolt reveals that the ever-useless Elders have sensed an uptick in demonic activity, which They believe indicates a reorganization of the Underworld behind a new leader. This information leads to much angst-ridden hand-wringing from Piper and Raige. They mention the various demonic events that closed out last season, and worry that Cole's once again exerting undue influence over their empty-headed sister. Because nothing, I should remind you, is ever Phoebe's fault. If Cole's not making her do something despicable, the Phoetus is, and if not the Phoetus, then D'Eartha, and if not D'Eartha, then a banshee, or the Demon Of Fear, or the Nexus, or "the call of the sea," or a bad boyfriend from New York City, or Cinderella's slippers, or...you get the point. The Dolt splutters that Phoebe might have been doing something completely innocent, like trading sexual favors for information. Piper snarks, "Okay, I like the sound of that. Slutty and manipulative -- that's better than evil any day!" Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Piper. Not that I've tried it myself, mind you. It's just that some of my best friends are manipulative sluts. Anyway, the Dolt suggests they hold off on judgment until they speak with Phoebe herself, because the Dolt is a great big gargoyle-faced buzzkill. And speaking of buzzkills, the Dolt mentions that Darryl phoned just as the much-abused grandfather clock strikes two. "Oh," Raige breathes, dismayed.