A/N: lizardmomma wrote in her last review that she liked Monty Python. Me too. I wrote this last year and thought you might want to take a look at it. Enjoy and let me knowwhat you think.

A/N 2: I own nothing. Rich people owned Charmed and Monty Python own themselves. The rest of us are probably not insane enough to own the Pythons anyway. Darn.

Um, hi.

The Just When You Thought She Was Dead Players Present

A Snoopy Production

The (Not So) Dead Demon Sketch(you know, like the dead parrot sketch except it's a demon….and not so….you know….dead)

AKA: How Cole Really Ended Up in Limbo

January 20, 2003(Yes, that's right. The day after that piece of crap travesty was heaped upon us. I technically have not actually seen the episode in question but based upon the number of friends who had to seek therapy afterwards so as not to be scarred for life, I figure it must have been pretty hideous.)

Phoebe Halliwell rushed along as quickly as she could. Technically it wasn't very quickly because she was carrying something that weighed a bit more than she did. Still, she moved with a purpose until she found the shop she was looking for where she dropped her package onto the floor and collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath.

Phoebe(Ringing the sales bell): Hello! Hello! Oh my God! Prue!

Brenda: Who are you calling Prue? My name is Brenda!

Phoebe: Sorry, I have cataracts.

Brenda: Never mind that. What can I do for you?

Phoebe: I wish to register a complaint.

Brenda: Um, I was just closing up to go get my nails done.

Phoebe: Oh no you don't you..you…uh

Brenda: I what?

Phoebe: You Prue look-a-like you! I wish to register a complaint now!

Brenda(sighs): Fine. Go ahead. What's your beef?

Phoebe: I wish to complain about this demon that I purchased 2 and a half years ago from this very boutique.

Phoebe unrolls the tarp and Cole Turner's body falls out.

Brenda(looks over the counter and inspects the merchandise): Oh yeah. The half-demon Belthazor. What an awesome looking guy. Great sex.

Phoebe: The sex doesn't enter into it. Well okay, maybe it does a little. Or maybe a lot. Anyway, he's laying here dead.

Brenda: Yeah so? You're a witch. Witches vanquish demons. This demon is dead.

Phoebe: Yes, but he doesn't stay dead! Cole sits up and looks around. Phoebe hits him over the head with a frying pan she seemingly produces from nowhere. Cole falls down dead again. See what I mean?

Brenda: Yeah, I see. I don't know why you're bitchin' though. I mean, look at those abs, that chest, that ass. And oh my lord, the se……..

Phoebe: Okay, yes I get it. Physically speaking he's like, the perfect guy. Except, mentally, he's a nutter.

Phoebe: He's INSANE. He's a LUNATIC. He's CERTIFIABLE. Phoebe starts to rant. HE'S AN OVERBEARING, CRAZY, HOMICIDAL, MANIACAL, LOONY, UNCARING, POER HUNGRY, MAD, SELFISH BASTARD AND I JUST WANT HIM TO STAY DEAD, DEAD AND BURIED FOREVER AND EVER AND THEN I WANT HIM TO ROT AND BURN IN HELL FOR ALL ETERNITY FOR EVERY MEAN AND HORRIBLE THING THAT HE'S EVER DONE BECAUSE HE'S A HORRIBLE AND MEAN ASSHOLE AND HE JUST NEEDS TO STAY DEAD AND SUFFER ETERNAL TORMENT AND HE SHOULD HAVE TO WATCH BAD MOVIES AND EAT ROTTEN SUSHI AND EXCREMENT AND HE SHOULD JUST DIE OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN JUST DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND DIE

Cole: PHOEBE, SHUT THE HELL UP!! He hits her over the head with a mallet he seemingly produces out of nowhere and sighs.

Brenda: Boy, does she have some serious anger management issues.

Cole: You're telling me. Boy I…Hey! You do look like Prue!

Brenda: Well….actually, I am Prue. Phoebe's just too stupid to realize it.

Cole: Oh. Why the deception?

Prue: I don't know, she just pisses me off.

Cole: So what now?

Prue: Well, do you want to go back there?

Cole: Hell no! I have had all the misogyny I can take, thank you very much.

Prue: Okay, so you want something else.

Cole: Yes. What have you got?

Prue: Male model for soda ads.

Cole: Too frivolous and wishy-washy. I want something with more meat in it. And no witches. At least not the practicing kind.

Prue: Plastic surgeon?

Cole: Where?

Prue: Um, Miami with an option to move to Los Angeles eventually if everything goes well.

Cole: I'll take it. Want to come?

Prue: Sunny beaches. Sure. I wouldn't mind getting out of the office once in a while.

Cole: What about Phoebe?

Prue: Hold on a minute. Let me make a call. There. All taken care of.

Cole: That's it?

Prue: That's it.

Cole: Damn. Wish things were that efficient in the Underworld. All we get down there is Bureaucracy.

Prue: Let's go.

Phoebe wakes up in the Manor a few hours later.

Phoebe: Piper! Paige! I had this vision. Cole isn't dead! He's, he's….I knew what it was a minute ago.

Piper: You just had a nightmare Phoebe. Cole is gone. He's not coming back.

Phoebe: But Prue was there! Except she was Brenda! Or maybe….oh, I'm so confused.

Paige: Phoebe, I think you're getting your television metaphors confused again? Remember when you thought that Mister Ed was really Arnold the pig from Green Acres? Go back to sleep. Cole is gone. Trust me.

So Phoebe falls back to sleep and forgets all about it.

April 10, 2005(You all can figure that one out for yourselves. I have a cold and don't want to explain stuff anymore. What one has to do with the other is a mystery, but there you go. Anyway.)

Prue: We need a favor.

Cole: What kind of favor?

Prue: We need you to be you.

Cole: Huh? You've kind of lost me there Prue.

Prue: We want you to pretend to be stuck in Limbo. Just for today.

Cole: I don't know Prue.

Prue: We know about Drake. How you helped him even though you're not supposed to be living that life anymore. What would Kimber say? What would Sean say? Hmmmm?

Cole: Fine. But I'm not talking to Phoebe. I might annoy her a little, but no actual contact.

Prue: Deal. You can talk to Piper. She and Leo need help too.

Cole: Okay, I'll do it. I kind of need a vacation anyway.

Prue: How did it go with The Carver anyway.

Cole: I would tell you except that this is supposed to be a PG rated fic, so…..

Prue: No, no I get it. Tell me later.

Cole: Six o'clock? Daytona beach?

Prue: I'll be waiting with the Mai Tai's.

Cue The Seven Year Witch

And that's the story of how Cole Turner ended up in Limbo.(or not.)

All spelling and grammatical errors are totally and completely deliberate.(or not.)