Kitchen. Aftermath and Weekly Summation. Raige asks the Dolt how long it will be before she gets a chance to orb up to Whitelighterland. The Dolt counsels patience. Raige then wonders if Phoebe is destined to die at the age of eighty-four by having some pretty, vapid lunkhead run a sword through her gut. Piper and the Dolt remind her that the future is not etched in stone. Raige then inquires as to Phoebette -- won't her knowledge of the future cause complications? Piper's certain that Grams will cast a spell to erase Phoebette's memory as soon as she starts babbling about time traveling and orbing and the Dolt and whatnot. "That's nice," snarks Raige. "That's Grams," reminds Piper. Raige heads off to bed, but not before she announces that she's turning down the promotion in favor of giving Mulleted Scott the opportunity he deserves. Piper and the Dolt congratulate her on coming up with such a practical solution to her personal-gain issue. Whatever. It never was an issue in the first place, and I don't really care anyway.
Bimbo Boudoir. Tiresome wedding chat. Phoebe, perched on the end of the bed, asks, "Is there something you're not telling me about you? Something I don't know?" Lengthy pause. Cole walks over from the door and sits next to her. Lengthy pause. "No." DUN! Phoebe smiles with relief and draws Cole into an embrace. The reverse angle focuses on his serious expression, then tracks back quickly from his face to disappear in a milky white cloud. The shot pulls back further to reveal D'Eartha's stony face. The cataracts clear from her eyes as she smiles and we fade to black.
Next week: A rerun of "A Paige From The Past." Enjoy.













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