The Lost Picture Show

Episode Report Card
Demian: F | Grade It Now!
The One Where Demian Loses His Mind. Again.

Or not, because Phoebe's tangled up in her insulting sperm bank subplot at the moment. Yes, "sperm bank subplot." Phoebe's apparently decided that, since the whole Vex Pexter thing was a total washout, she's going to purchase a donor' know what? Fuck this. Phoebe makes it disgustingly clear in two or three lines that she's using this as an alternative to dating, and it's all so dimwitted and wrongheaded and annoying and offensive and dull that I'm going to ignore it entirely to move on to Raige striking out with Piper as well, for the Dolt's dragged his unbearable shrew of a wife across town to "some magical quack" -- her words, not mine -- of the Dolt's acquaintance for counseling. Piper does suggest, though, that Raige speak to Agent Murphy about the whole thing. "If he had enough clout to get our identities back," Piper argues, "he should be able to help you out with this." Raige frets about her job interview for a bit, but it's clear she'll have to postpone that. No one cares one way or the other, honey. Raige angrily snaps her cell phone shut and glares at Sam. "Shall we go?" he wonders rhetorically. Raige heaves a tremendous sigh, but exits with him for the hospital.

Back in Piper's aggravating retread of a subplot I never cared about in the first place, I find I can't pay attention to a single thing they're shrieking at each other as they stomp through an anonymous city park, because I keep flashing back on Brian Krause kissing me in that awful, evil dream. And me liking it. EW! The two eventually wander over to tonight's version of The Magical Black Man, who happens to be a middle-aged Latino gardener. So, you know, he's more of a Magical Mexican, but whatever. I think about Brian Krause's soft yet manly lips and then I cry a little for my damned, doomed soul while The Magical Mexican does something stupid with a bed of roses, and the next thing I know, we're over at...

...The Only Hospital In San Francisco, where we find Raige and Sam disembarking from an elevator car onto the trauma ward's floor. Raige is on her cell, thanking some personnel department minion at THE BLACK HOLE OF SOCIAL SERVICES for rescheduling her interview for later that afternoon, but that's not important. What is important is that Sam bitches, "I don't understand why we couldn't just orb here. It would have been a lot faster." "You want my help, we drive like everybody else!" she hisses at him. "We're not like everybody else!" Sam howls, and dear, drunk Whitelighting man, if that quite sane assertion of fact didn't work on these miserable, ungrateful wretches when their own grandmother used it on them repeatedly in the past, you're simply wasting your time and ours pulling it out on Raige now. In any event, they're presently greeted by the delightful Agent Murphy, but to my immense distress, I find myself still thinking about Brian Krause. I need help. Long story short, Raige gives Murphy the bullet on the whole J.D. situation just as Vaklav rounds a corner at the far end of the hall with J.D.'s stretcher, wheeling the unconscious greaser into a private room. We get Murphy's point of view of the proceedings as he darts his eyes down to Vaklav's suspiciously filthy footwear. "Doctors don't wear dirty boots," he squints at Raige and Sam. The next thing we know, Murphy's crashing through the door of the private room to yell, "Freeze!" with his automatic pointed at Vaklav's head. Vaklav, who'd been preparing to immolate J.D., instead shoots Agent Murphy a foul grimace as he conjures another Flaming Ball Of Death atop his right palm. Vaklav lunges to fling the thing at Murphy's chest, but the agent plunges to the floor, leaving the FBOD to zip harmlessly through the air until it blows a torso-sized hole in the wall. Murphy quickly recovers to squeeze off five rounds that explode into Vaklav's gut. There's a decided lack of gore, and the wounds in fact glow rather than bleed, knitting themselves up along with the holes in Vaklav's white coat. Agent Murphy gapes. Vaklav glares at him once more before squiggling out of there. Raige and Sam finally stumble into the room, wondering what happened. Murphy's speechless with shock, so Sam just darts out of the frame towards J.D.'s side, in the process falling right into the commercial break.

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