And speaking of Chrissssty, there she is in Suicide Boudoir, getting both a pep talk and a lesson in channeling her powers from her sssstupid ssssisssster. The Retard telekinetically slides a full wastebasket to the center of the room, then encourages Chrissssty to test her own powers on the thing. Chrissssty thinks real hard for a second and presses her fingertips against her temples. The trash can's contents instantly burst into flame. I'd smack her around for setting a garbage can on fire inside an old wooden home that she doesn't own, but it was the Retard's idea in the first place, and besides, Chrissssty's getting a free pass from me this evening because of what she does in a rapidly approaching scene. The two bleached blondes WOO! about Chrissssty's accomplishment for a bit before the Bimbo tosses a blanket over the blazing trash, smothering the fire.
Simon Mocks and Darling Henry and ANNOYING. Simon Mocks challenges Darling Henry to a duel by conjuring a pair of white gloves into his right hand and sissily slapping Darling Henry with them. At an outdoor café, in plain view of at least thirty people. No, seriously. No. Seriously. And...scene.
Piper and Hilton Cooties and NOT PAYING ATTENTION, especially because this is the scene in which he wonders where the Dolt is, and she does not tell him that the Dolt is temporarily overseas on an assignment for his job. Their insulting banter is cut short when Piper receives a call from home. It's Phoebe, urging Piper to return to the Manor, pronto, because she and Raige have come to the conclusion that higher-level demons must be shielding Kiefer and the Kieferettes from the ladies' attempts to find them. Piper pushes responsibility for The Dead-Eyed Psycho onto Hilton Cooties -- a guy she hasn't seen in two years and a guy she barely knew even back then -- and leaves The Dead-Eyed Psycho at the fire station -- away from which all adults responsible for his well being might be called in the very next minute to deal with an emergency -- and flees just as a high-pitched squeal -- and do I mean high-pitched -- assaults Phoebe's ears from the floor above. Phoebe jiggles onto the second floor from below just as Raige arrives from the nonexistent attic and, to steal a turn of phrase from Keckler, oh my awesome. The Retarded Bimbo is on fire. Crappily CGI'd fire, but fire nonetheless. Hooray! And she's such a fuckwit that she's spinning around, flapping her arms in the air, rather than stripping her blazing jacket off or rolling around on the floor. I swear, this woman is too stupid to breathe. And if I'm remembering my C.S.I.s correctly, she shouldn't be breathing right now, because her windpipe should have slammed itself shut from the heat by this point. Raige, doing the only thing she knows how, orbs the blazing hoodie off of the Retard's bizarrely proportioned body and towards points unknown before she and Phoebe race to the Retard's side, wildly wondering what gives. Chrissssty, bless her traumatized little heart, used her pyrokinesis to set her sssstupid ssssisssster on fire, then fled from the Manor with a demon. Why we saw none of this thoroughly delightful series of developments onscreen, I'll never know, especially when they could easily have dispensed with the entire Hilton Cooties scene prior to this one and most of the Simon Mocks sequence that preceded that. Whatever. CANCELLED! The Retarded Bimbo makes squawking noises as Raige and Phoebe gape their collective way into the next commercial break.
Manor Parlor. Aftermath. The Retard lisps her unbearable way through a description of the events that transpired right before she was most awesomely set on fire by her own sister. Basically, the Zombie Triad -- whom the gals don't know about yet -- telepathically contacted Chrissssty, murmured sweet nothings into her brain about being "the key to the ultimate power," and then, uh, ordered her to torch the Retard? I'm guessing here. Kiefer next showed up to spirit Chrissssty away. While the Manor Morons glumly take this all in, I wonder how, where, and why Piper found the time to change blouses in the middle of a crisis. Granted, the one she'd been sporting up to this point was an uncharacteristically hiddy cap-sleeved concoction one would think she wouldn't be caught dead wearing, but still. Priorities, woman. The endless babbling is cut short when Darling Henry rings Raige's cell with a frantic "What do you know about duels?" Raige immediately orbs over to...