Witness Protection Program

As the grandfather clock struck 12:30PM, the five Halliwell sons stood in the center of the sitting room, their arms folded, looking up at the walls to see all the trapped demons, as well as Chris' "very own" Darklighter. Chris had tagged the Darklighter's bald head with a black permanent marker; it read If found, please return his bushwhacking ass to Christopher Perry Halliwell, his owner, who will take the proper precautions to see that he never wanders off again. Admittedly, Chris was having a little too much fun with the torment, but if there's one sin in Chris' book, it's the premeditated murder of any of his siblings.

Piper, Leo, and Paige remained in their positions on the stairway, eager to see what the boys were going to do next.

"Wake up, fellas!" yelled Chris, like a coach yelling at his team in the locker room. "I'm talkin' to you, Bright Eyes." he snarled, pointing to the Darklighter as he gradually wakened to consciousness "Good boy!" he patronized. "Make Daddy proud!"

"Okay," Dylan shouted, "This message is for all things spawned significantly below sea level. So you guys listen up!"

Steve stepped forward to clarify. "What my brother means is; all beings that self-identify as evil, are considering converting to evil, are in the evil

closet, or are merely questioning where they fall on the good/evil continuum; please pay particularly close attention to the following announcements!"

"Please understand," Jared added, "We're not here to judge; everyone experiments with evil in college. We know how it is, boys."

At that point, Chris commenced the description of the rules and regulations regarding 'Dark Magic Attacks' at the Halliwell Manor. "Topic of discussion number one;" he began, "the next being who comes here with Wyatt's face... had better be Wyatt." he commanded. "I cannot stress this point strongly enough; Wyatt's face is to be worn by none other than Wyatt himself!"

Paige leaned over to Piper and Leo. "Wyatt's face?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yeah," answered Leo, "one of the attackers had the ability to 'glamour' and tried to pass himself off as Wyatt from the future."

"What did they do?" Paige asked with great concern.

"Lee didn't buy it for a second," Piper explained. "We haven't quite figured out exactly how he does it, or even what it is he does, but Lee returned the warlock's or demon's or whatever the hell the thing was' fireball with some sort of multicolored energy blast and vanquished him," she added. "I'm curious to ask him exactly what his power is."

"Any ideas?" Paige asked, looking at Leo.

"I've got a couple of theories, but nothing for certain." Leo answered. He was actually feeling somewhat disappointed in himself for not being able to give a detailed answer, thinking that any Whitelighter who'd dealt with witches as long as he had should've come across every power known to the world of magic, or at least know it by reputation.

"Maybe it's a new power!" said Paige, immediately aware that she was overreaching to comfort Leo.

Down on the floor the brothers continued to march around the room, further declaring their terms to the Demons and the Darklighter. A bullhorn would've been a perfect addition to the scene. The demons looked at one another in disbelief. In the future, rumors of the Brethren's vanquishing methods had spread far and wide, but demons of the present were sorely at a loss.

"Topic of discussion number two:" Lee announced. "Attacking during mealtimes!"

"Okay people, or things, or whatever the hell you are..." shouted Chris, making sure this upcoming point was clearly understood. "Tonight the Halliwell Manor is off limits to anyone with an address, permanent or temporary, in the Underworld, between the hours of 5PM and 7PM."

Jared continued: "At which point our family will be sitting down for our first uninterrupted dinner together. Anything that goes amiss must be the result of our own accidents, poor choices, and/or misconduct! Please make a note of it."

At this point, Dylan went to the Dining Room and retrieved a large tray with various plates, glasses, and bowls filled with a myriad of different foods, drinks, dressings, and spices; they were all rendered inedible by the debris from the attack, but retained plenty of their potency.

Chris picked up a bowl of soup and positioned himself within comfortable throwing distance of his Darklighter. "A sampling of tonight's appetizer." he shouted, waiting for the defiant assassin to make eye contact. "I'm talkin' to you, Pretty Boy!" he yelled.

Finally coming to the realization that there was no way to escape his unpleasant fate, the Darklighter glared directly into Chris' eyes. "Bon appetite!" Chris took the bowl of soup and catapulted it toward the Darklighter's contorted face; it exploded instantly, vanquishing the him completely. Oddly enough, the bowl didn't break at all. Chris stepped forward and caught it casually. The spilled soup dissolved into the wall, leaving no stain or mess to clean up."

"Wow!" whispered Piper to Leo. "Apparently in the future we're going to adopt the lovechild of Julia Childe and Mr. Clean." she said.

Dylan, still holding the tray of food, continued with the speech. "If we need to call every single one of our brothers into this house to vanquish your respective asses, we will not hesitate to do so."

"Be warned," Steve added, "if you guys have any clever notions about trying to get one of us alone, know this; we will be using the Buddy System for both bathroom breaks and second helpings." he said. "We are not above restroom-vanquishings; let there be no confusion regarding this matter."

Lee spoke in turn: "Should their be any intrusion during the afore mentioned hours, I will personally march my telepathic ass straight down to the Underworld, bringing with me enough food for an 'All-You-Can-Eat' Thanksgiving Dinner, complete with exploding cranberry sauce!"

"So," Chris yelled, "Once again, that's between the hours of 5PM and 7PM, tonight."

"Also, fellas," Steve included, "please be aware that San Francisco does indeed acknowledge Daylight Savings Time. Any early arrivals due to the ignorance of this fact will not be considered a valid excuse, which makes each of you responsible for informing your fellow spawns."

"Oh, and P.S.," Dylan amended, "to those of you who won't be able to make the trip back to the Underworld, we regret to inform you that, due to our lack of space and our First-Come/First-Serve provisions policy, we've been forced to relocate you to a new residence."

"Think of it sort of like the 'Witness Protection Program'." Steve suggested.

"No need to worry;" said Jared, "everything's been taken care of and all the necessary provisions have been made."

"That's right!" Lee continued, "We've got a place picked out for you already! Chris, do we have some directions to aid our evil friends in the finding of their new home?"

"We do indeed!" Chris answered. "Now, first you're gonna head South on the Straight to Hell Turnpike, getting off at exit Six Hundred, Sixty-Six."

Jared continued: "Now, once you're off the turnpike, the first intersection you'll come to Nowhere Road and Sucks to Be You Boulevard" he said. "At that point you want to take a left onto Nowhere Road, which will take you further South."

Steve added: "Nowhere Road eventually turns into Brimstone Place. You need to take Brimstone up to Hellfire Street and your new home is LITERALLY right there at the corner of Hellfire and Brimstone. Dylan, what's that address again?"

"Your new address is at the Inferno Apartments, 000 Hellfire and Brimstone; Eternally, Damned; and the zip is 00000."

"Now," said Lee, "unfortunately, this trip does not provide a meal for the road, so we're gonna give you a little snack to send you on your way."

"We've got so much leftover food," said Jared. "It really is the least we can do."

"Yeah, guys," Chris said, "Just think of it as our way of saying Thanks for dropping by!"

"Unfortunately," said Steve, "we've lost our stepladder, so we're gonna have to toss this up to you. I sure hope y'all are good catchers!"

Dylan set the tray of food down on the coffee table and each of the brothers picked up a food item to 'serve' to their departing guests."

"Okay!" said Steve. "Who wants the macaroni salad?" he asked, presenting the bowl for all to see. "Well, okay," he continued, "since everybody has their hand raised, both hands in fact, I'm just gonna have to randomly assign someone." Steve walked around the room and finally decided to serve the dish to the demon hanging in the corner. Because of his corner location, he had to be hung with his arms straight up. "Well, sir, since your hand is up the highest, I'm gonna assume you want it the most." Steve chided. "And, I can't say I blame you, this stuff is simply to die for!"

Steve hurled the bowl, hitting the demon directly in the face, instantly vanquishing him. Just as Chris had done, Steve stepped forward, caught the bowl, and walked back to stand next to his brothers.

Each brother continued to step forward with his own unique brand of presentation. Dylan had the spicy chicken that will "practically set your tongue on fire!" Jared had the asparagus casserole which, after tasting it, "you won't even know what hit'cha!" And finally, Lee had the "Death By Chocolate." homemade pudding; that one's pretty self-explanatory. Each customer was served his dish promptly and with remarkable efficiency, until there were only three surviving demons left.

Steve looked at the three fearful prisoners and said: "I'm going to deactivate your shackles now. Upon doing so, you will shimmer your sweet demonic asses down to the Underworld and inform your little buddies of our terms and conditions for this evening."

Dylan added: "We here at Halliwell Manor do realize you have a choice in vanquishers and we would like to take this opportunity to thank you for choosing us to be your obliterators."

"We hope you've enjoyed your time here with us and we hope to see you again soon." Chris concluded. "Bye-bye, now!"