...the nonexistent attic. There follows an endless filler scene in which Raige tosses a truth potion into the guy's chest, or whatever, and he starts babbling about inconsequential crap until Piper, cold fury etched into her face from her earlier confrontation down on the sun porch, strides in from the upper stairs and orders Raige to get rid of the mouthy little shit. Raige gapes as the screen flares white, and we're back...
...in Burke's lair. The Feebs and The Retarded Bimbo threaten Burke with the deep freeze unless he spills all he knows about The Retard's stupid sister that nobody cares about, until Phoebe's unceremoniously yanked from the scene in a swirling cloud of glowing golf balls. The Retard simpers. Shut UP, Retard.
Back in the nonexistent attic, Phoebe rematerializes to goof, "You know, a phone call would have done the trick!" "We're running out of time," Raige flatly states, harshing Phoebe's dizzy-headed buzz. "And so is [Frankendolt]," Piper unnecessarily adds.
And speaking of Frankendolt, here he is now, being wheeled out of surgery and right into another commercial break! That was weird. Also: Gross. The makeup department did a number on Frankendolt's face, and in addition to the stitches and gashes and such, he's now looking jaundiced for some ridiculous reason or another. It's disturbing, and for all the wrong reasons. Poor Brian Krause. I wonder what he did to piss everyone off so much. You know, aside from the obvious.
Back in the nonexistent attic, the camera starts circling The Glamorous Ladies, as is its wont whenever they're deep in the throes of collective emotional distress. The three debate the propriety of summoning The Angel Of Destiny for a very long time until Piper puts her foot down and demands her sisters' compliance. The three link hands, and Piper recites the following from memory:
Power of Three, we summon thee,
And call to us The Angel Of Destiny.
The camera, which had circled the gals through all of the above, now cuts to a spinning overhead of the three as Piper finishes the spell. A bright burst of glowy golden mojo erupts at the center of the Charmed Ones' circle and starts spinning counterclockwise, against the camera's direction, before the shot cuts again to find the startled ladies breaking apart as the burst explodes into a cascade of light that eventually reveals the berobed form of Denise Dowse, the erstwhile Mrs. Teasley of Beverly Hills, 90210, and let me tell you something: Mrs. Teasley still isn't taking any shit at all from bony-assed white chicks, as she instantly proves by immediately glowering, "Who are you to summon me?" "Y-y-you don't look like the one we've met before," Raige stammers. "He's got a gig on Desperate Housewives, and I haven't held a steady job since they finally cancelled The Guardian," The Angel Of Teasley does not reply, choosing instead to note, "There are many destinies, and many angels." Whatever you say, Mrs. T. God, I hate this show. After a bit of sniping, Piper gets to the point with, "This was not just any random accident -- there's more to it than that, and I want to know what." "Who says there's more?" The Angel Of Teasley regally demands. "The Angel Of Death," Piper instantly snots back. "And an Elder," Raige adds. "And an Avatar," Phoebe sneers, completing the set. The Angel Of Teasley elicits a small smile from yours truly when she sniffs, "Looks like I'm going to have to have a little chat with them." Hee. The Angel Of Death is totally pissing his pants right now. You just know Mrs. Teasley's going to beat Death like a redheaded stepchild once she finally gets her hands on him.