Arthur Andersen's House Of Magical Accounting. Piper and Raige edge warily through the door, reviewing their intended plan. Piper will play "bad witch," frightening Guinea Wike with various shots of voodoo, while Raige plays "good witch," urging him to confess before Piper kills him. Raige snots something about revealing their secret to random murderers. Piper tells her to shove it. There's a difference, she rightly points out, between revealing themselves to save the innocent and revealing themselves to entertain grubby continent-hopping slampieces. As Piper finishes reading Raige her beads, Guinea Wike opens the curtain on the club's stage to set up for that evening's performance. Piper flicks her wrist, yells, "Boo!" and blows up a prop just as Wike reaches for it. Guinea Wike winces from the blast and turns to confront the Ps, rubbing his hand. "What are you?" he demands. "What do you want?" "A confession," Piper coolly replies, and calmly blows up another section of the set. Wike feigns ignorance. Piper snits, "Angela Prova-zolli found out about your little money-laundering operation, so you killed her," blowing up more pieces of the set for added emphasis. Guinea Wike continues to prevaricate. Piper threatens to move onto body parts while making the international gesture for ripping off another's balls. Guinea Wike, goombah that he is, clutches the boys and sings like a choirboy. Angela threatened to lead the police to "Pier 86" with the information she pulled from the club. Had she done so, "they" would have killed not only her, but also Wike and the police. "Who are 'they'?" Piper asks. "Believe me, you don't wanna know," Guinea Wike pants before tossing a smoke bomb to the floor. He disappears in the haze, much like the Legion Of Dim a couple of weeks ago on Buffy. Piper and Raige scamper to the stage to find a trapdoor hidden beneath a carpet. They exit stage left to find the stairs to the basement.
Speaking of the basement, Guinea Wike rises to his feet from the concrete below to be greeted by a rat on one of the pipes. Guinea Wike is most a-feared, for he knows the end is nigh. The rat glows red, then flares out into the form of a black-clad, goateed demon. He speaks in a vaguely British accent, which under normal circumstances would irritate me to no end. However, given tonight's apparent preferred choice of bad-guy accents, I'm grateful he's not another meathead from Bensonhurst. Ratman, who has deep red beetle eyes, excoriates Guinea Wike for, um, ratting him out to the Charmed Ones. Ow. I'm sorry. That one hurt me while I was typing it. Ratman waves his left hand around, and Guinea Wike disappears in a red glow, shrinking down to the floor as he does so. When the glow dissipates, Guinea Wike has been transformed into an endearing little taupe-colored rodent. "Dinnertime," Ratman seethes, and a dozen other rats pour from holes in the walls to attack. Surprisingly, the sight of eight or nine cannibal rats chewing on the tiny, bloodied Guinea Wike is a bit chilling. Not surprisingly, this Charmed-induced chill lasts all of two seconds. Ratman hears the approach of Piper and Raige and morphs back down to rodent form. Raige scuttles into the basement first and screams. Piper, echoing the Dolt, asks, "Demons you can handle, but not rats?" Raige shakes her head at this and points to the Guinea tartare on the floor. Piper claps a hand to her mouth, aghast. The two inch their way backwards out of the basement and into commercial.