"That didn't go well," Piper grumps as Raige crosses to kneel at the unconscious innocent's side. "They were a lot more powerful than I thought," Piper adds. Raige notes that the innocent's still alive, and orbs off with him to Not!warts for protection as Piper and Phoebe vow to learn the demons' identity.
The screen flares white to dump us in some red-lit subterranean chamber that is -- no kidding -- dripping with moss as Scorching Demonic Hottie No. 1 addresses his compatriots. Tonight's foul plan for world domination involves slaughtering innocents on all five points of a pentagram drawn over the city grid, which will somehow allow this group of low-lifes to slaughter all who remain within the pentagram's boundaries with no fear of retribution, or something. I guess that would make it tonight's foul plan for neighborhood domination, then, but none of this is really important, because these guys are not involved in the season's main story arc, so we know they're all going to be dead by 8 PM Central. What is important is that these guys are, as I believe I indicated earlier in the recap, smoking hot, despite their admittedly questionable hair strategies. An example of the latter? The assy, overgelled fauxhawk on Scorching Demonic Hottie No. 2, Brad Hawkins, who, joy of joys, is a somewhat age-appropriate thirty years old. He's also got a massively muscled chest, which is threatening to endow him with cleavage deeper than Phoebe's. Hee. Kevin and Brad's demonic faction are caught up in some sort of ongoing rivalry with a group known as the Sokols, and it's Kevin's hope that they might trick the Glamorous Ladies into believing the Sokols are responsible for the recent spate of murders. Once the Manor Morons take out the Sokols, Kevin and Brad can -- I don't know, reign supreme over the Mission District, or something. Again, not important, because during all of the expository blather, Kevin's ambled up to Brad and totally caressed Brad's cheek with one of his tantalizingly grubby hands, and these two guys are so going to hike their tongues down each others' throats right there in front of all of their hot little colleagues. Sniff. There's nothing quite so touching as demonic love.
Well, okay, it might not be all that touching, but it's certainly a hell of a lot more interesting than what follows, which is a painfully tedious scene between Raige and her li'l bulging homophobe as they muddle their way through their awkward breakfast date. At an outdoor cafe. In San Francisco. In November or February or whenever the hell this episode's supposed to be taking place, despite the fact that the gals took pains to bundle up for their little innocent-saving jaunt mere hours ago. Whatever. The conversation at the breakfast table is, at best, strained, as Li'l Bulging Brody's obsession with the Avatars has apparently left him unable to talk of anything else. Raige, of course, wants desperately to drop matters demonic for a little while and simply enjoy herself, but that's not to be, as Brody's "emergency line" starts bleeping in his jacket. Claiming he can't ignore the call, Brody snaps the cell open and barks something competent-sounding yet entirely implausible at the person on the other end of the line as Raige gazes wistfully at a nearby couple who are making disgusting schmoopy faces at each other. Brody shuts his phone and excitedly turns to Raige with, "Intel just detected another unusual power spike in the area!" Raige's Moustache stares at him blankly. "Don't you know what this means?" he pleads. "Yeah," Raige nods, wrinkling her nose, "yeah, I do. It means you eat alone." And with that, she grabs her purse and bolts from the patio. Brody beats himself up for a moment over his shoddy seduction skills, but really. It's so much more fun when somebody else is kicking his ass for him.