Next thing you know, we're in the Manor parlor. The ladies have arranged themselves on various pieces of furniture while Darryl paces the floor with a dossier and some hefty exposition. You better be careful hauling that load around, my man, or you'll wind up in a truss. Piper remains clad in that fugly ruffly top -- despite the fact we never saw her pay for the damn thing -- and I begin to worry I'll ruin my shirt with milk stains. The Feebs dabs polish onto her toenails as Darryl informs them that Adrian Paul (Hewitt) has been linked to five murders in five cities, though the blonde from the pre-credits sequence was his first victim in San Francisco. Piper reminds Darryl that while the circumstances of the blonde's murder are a bit strange, it doesn't necessarily follow that a dark demonic force sent from the flaming maw of Hell is involved. She then fidgets distractedly with her top. Raige tells her to knock it off, and begs Phoebe to voice her approval of Piper's new look. The Feebs glances up from her toenails and babytalks, "You look so cute!" Shut it, Feebs. Christ, I can't wait for Adrian Paul (Hewitt) to (spoiler!) gag you with his marauding horde of hungry CGI bandages. Detective Darryl tempts fate by stretching a mitt in the general direction of Piper's distended belly for a feel. Piper snatches his wrist and warns, "Do it and you pull back a bloody stump." Oh, promises, promises. Like anything that interesting would ever happen on this show.
In any event, Phoebe chooses this moment to rise and waddle around on her tacky toenails while informing the others that the Dolt is consulting with the ever-useless Elders regarding the scarab found on the mummy's chest. She also babbles something about the day of beauty she's scheduled for herself at the office. Phoebe has just enough time to head to the crime scene to force a premonition, you see, before heading back to her place of employment for a facial. I really need to land a job as an advice columnist. Not that I'd be scheduling pedicures for myself at the office or anything, but the amount of paid downtime certainly is appealing. Besides, if an idiot like Phoebe can dispense advice to such wild acclaim, how hard can the job be? Darryl splutters his opposition to the idea of Phoebe clomping around the murdered blonde's apartment, revealing in the process that he's up for a promotion. It's taken him a long time to shrug off "the freaky-deaky rap" he gained through his long association with the Glamorous Ladies, and should he be passed over for promotion once more because of said rap, he might as well forget making it to lieutenant. Personally, I'd have a problem promoting to any position of authority someone who utilizes phrases like "freaky-deaky rap" in his daily conversation, but that's probably just me. Phoebe promises to be discreet. No comment. Darryl somewhat reluctantly agrees to accompany Phoebe and Raige to the murdered blonde's apartment. Piper makes to join them, but Darryl forbids her to tag along. Despite the fact the percolating infant has made Piper "self-healing and invincible," pregnant women are as a rule forbidden from crime scenes because of the chemicals used by the forensic scientists. Piper growls and grumbles and futzes with her hideous top while I rummage around for an old t-shirt to mop up the mess oozing from my chest.
The scene cuts to a municipal facade, upon which are emblazoned the words "CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER." Beneath these is the equally impressive "CORONER." Inside, Ice-T's picking up some extra cash moonlighting from his regular gig on Law & Order: SVU by fiddling around with a bone saw and some rubber gloves. Or maybe it's just some guy who looks like him. The Ice-Alike snaps his protective visor into place and prepares to hack away at the mummy. The moment the bone saw hits the wrappings, though, a series of powerful electrical jolts propels the Ice-Alike backwards through the air into a set of stainless steel shelves. The Ice-Alike then collapses onto the linoleum, dead. Dickless strolls into the frame, artfully sidestepping around the deceased coroner, and caresses the blonde's mummified corpse while psychoing a few romantic natterings to the "spirit of Isis" resting within. Meanwhile, I decide to refer to Dickless as Mr. (Hewitt) for the remainder of the recap, because Dickless is a bit blunt, and I never watched The Highlander. Apologies, but you'll have to make those "there can be only one" jokes yourselves. The shot cuts up to another stature-diminishing high angle as Mr. (Hewitt) places his hands on the mummy and erupts into a cloud of sand. This time, the mummy vanishes as well, leaving a thin layer of dust on the coroner's slab.