A short time later, Buttfuck lopes into his brother's office. Benvolio has cut his hair since last we saw him, and is now doing pro bono work for various criminal defendants as a way of atoning for his past sins. Incidentally, those scabrous lesions that covered his face are gone as well. He still doesn't do it for me, though. Buttfuck too-casually mentions that he's been riffling through the family's old lists of potions, but couldn't find the one their father used to banish spirits -- would Benvolio know where to find it? Benvolio guilt-trips Buttfuck about using magic, but Buttfuck tells him to cram it. He needs that potion and he needs it now, so would Ben just tell him where it is already? Ben shoots Buttfuck A Look, but we get the feeling he's going to help him out -- I would imagine out of guilt for wasting Buttfuck's fiancée. Now that I'm reminded of that, why, exactly, are these two even speaking to each other? Stupid show.
Meanwhile, in a part of the world that most definitely is not France and in fact is indeed a section of Los Angeles masquerading as San Francisco, Chronic arrives for his shareholders' meeting -- in a mode of transport that most definitely is not an airplane and in fact is indeed a limousine -- to find Phoebe waiting for him at the curb. I hate this show. I do, however, appreciate the pair of passing extras who eye Phoebe with massive amounts of open contempt. Chronic goggles a bit at Phoebe's "attire" before attempting to push past her. Phoebe strips off one of her scarves and wraps it around his neck, snaring him so she can Fatal Attraction his ass. Chronic tells her to buzz the fuck off. "Are you saying you don't want me?" she simpers. "Not right now," he confirms, pushing himself away from her. Phoebe spews a few loud insults in badly accented French, including "cochon" and what the captioning tells me is "fils de pute." "You're crazy," Chronic gawps, finally breaking away from her to enter the hotel. "You think you can just walk away from me?" she seethes. "You think I'm crazy -- you think this is crazy?" Chronic vanishes with neither a word nor a glance back. "Just wait," Phoebe promises. The doorman leers at the slut on the sidewalk.