Life's Candy, and the Sun's a Ball of Buttah

S01E13

It's Sectionals, bitches! Unfortunately, before we get to the competition proper, Will must formalize his resignation as director of the Glee Club as a result of last week's unfortunate mattress incident. Emma quickly volunteers to take his place, even going so far as to delay her sham wedding for a few hours in order to escort the kids to the Sectionals venue, so the only thing left to decide upon is the set list itself, though you'd think these bozos would have nailed that damn thing down long before now. Everyone quickly agrees to include their wheelchair-bound version of "Proud Mary" along with their signature "Don't Stop Believing," but a quarrel erupts over the required ballad, with Mercedes demanding her moment in the spotlight over -- who else? -- Rachel. An impromptu diva-off commences, with Mercedes absolutely killing it with a rousing rendition of "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" from Dreamgirls, after which Rachel gracefully concedes.

Of course, because we haven't had quite enough drama up to this point, Rachel tells Finn that Puck's actually the father of Quinn's fetus, so Finn pitches a massive hissy and quits, like, life, or something. After everyone sighs and frets and looks guilty about the entire uncomfortable situation, the kids -- plus last-minute Finn replacement J-Fro, who's been instructed to just stand in the back and sway -- head off to Sectionals, where they've been slotted into the third and final performance spot, and wouldn't you know it? The Jane Addams girls immediately proceed to perform both "And I Am Telling You" and "Proud Mary" -- the latter in wheelchairs, no less -- leading to a major collective freak-out by our endearing underdogs that's only made worse when the deaf kids from Haverbrook tunelessly howl their way through "Don't Stop Believing," much to the teary-eyed delight of the Sectionals audience, so Will, apprised of this turn of events via a series of increasingly frantic cell phone conversations with Emma, convinces a still-pouting Finn to head to the auditorium to see what he can do to help the situation.

Once Finn arrives, everyone quickly agrees to a hastily revised set list that includes "Don't Rain On My Parade" from Funny Girl, "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones, and a version of "Somebody To Love" that we don't get to see. International Recording Artist Eve And Her Ridiculously Crappy Wig, feeling guilty about accepting the McKinley set list from evil Sue Sylvester, attempts to remove the Jane Addams girls from the competition at the last minute, but the spectacularly unqualified judges -- who include a Carrie Prejean-esque fifth runner-up in the Miss Ohio pageant, a supremely unamused assistant state comptroller who's only there because her boss snagged some last-minute NASCAR tickets, and Sue's erstwhile paramour from the TV station -- have already reached their decision. And they award the trophy to New Directions. Of course.

Meanwhile, Will leaves Terri for good, Ken strands Emma at the altar, Emma announces she's leaving McKinley, Figgins fires Sue over the leaked set lists, and the eleven o'clock number is a version of Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You" that incorporates bits of choreography from just about every single number they've performed thus far this season. And in the end, Will chases after Emma to plant a sloppy wet one on her lips. How does she react? You'll have to wait until April to find out. Suckers!

Previously on Glee: The season thus far, duh. Currently on Glee, Kurt, Mercedes, Single-T Tina, and Artie are lounging around the baby grand in the music room, gossiping about who Mr. Schuester's replacement as Glee Club advisor might be after last week's unfortunate mattress incident when Rachel comes steaming in from the hall to wonder, "Did any of you think it was weird the way that Puck rushed to Quinn's aid during rehearsal yesterday?"

Smear to Rehearsal Yesterday, where Quinn's just now crashing onto her ass on the floor after slipping during a dance move. "Isitthebabyisitcoming?" Finn babbles, instantly kneeling by her side. "I think we're supposed to get hot towels!" Puck offers, having flown from the opposite end of the room to hold Quinn's hand in his. "Would you both just SHUT UP?" Quinn howls, shooting the two of them death glares while struggling to her feet on her own. "There's, like, sweat on the floor," she grumbles before insisting, "I'm fine!" Rachel stands on the sidelines amidst her gawping cohorts all gimlet-eyed and such until we...

...smear back to the present, where Kurt, Mercedes, Single-T Tina, and Artie lie pretty much in unison that they found nothing unusual whatsoever in Puck's behavior, especially given the fact that he and Quinn are friends. "It seemed like more than that," Rachel sighs before confiding, "I've never told you guys this before, but I'm a little psychic." Rachel rather amusingly activates her Manson Lamps on that last word while Mercedes shoots an equally amusing "Bitch kidding?" side-eye at Single-T Tina. Trumping them all, naturally, is Kurt, whose eyebrows have wafted towards the ceiling with maliciously gleeful disbelief while he purses his lips and leans slightly forward in his elegant perch atop a stool, the better not to miss a single syllable of the Capital-K Krazy now pouring from Rachel's delusional lips. Hee. "I can't read minds yet," Rachel whispers conspiratorially, "but I do have a sixth sense -- something is definitely going on there!" After the briefest of pauses, Kurt, Mercedes, Single-T Tina, and Artie bail, claiming they must be elsewhere at the moment, leaving poor Rachel and her delusional lips to chase after them all, "There's nothing to be scared of! It's not like Carrie, or anything!"

Hallway. "She's on to it," Mercedes groans into her cell phone. "I know!" Single-T Tina agrees into a cell phone of her own, despite the fact that she and Mercedes are strolling along right to each other. "It's really freaking me out!" Single-T Tina adds before instructing Mercedes to hold up, as Artie's buzzing in. Single-T Tina switches to a party line just as the screen splits all "Telephone Hour" to include Wheels on the right, from which he squeaks, "Dudes, this is serious -- if she finds out, she's gonna tell Finn! She's a total trout mouth!" Single-T Tina passes her phone to the just-appearing Kurt, and the screen splits again to push Mercedes down into a frame of her own as Kurt smirks, "I say we lock Rachel up until after Sectionals -- I volunteer my basement!" Mercedes argues that they can't, as they need Rachel to sing, and barely has Kurt damned Rachel's talent straight to Hell when the screen splits again to accommodate Brittney and Santana Lopez, ringing in from somewhere else. "We just heard," Santana Lopez fumes. "Who told?" "We assumed it was you," Artie snips with a slight roll of his eyes, and throughout the remainder of this exchange, the four frames keep whizzing around in various configurations on the screen, so you'll forgive me if I miss some of the hysterical reaction shots during the conversation that follows, though I'll say it right now: Everyone in this entire sequence freaking rocks. In any event, Santana Lopez sneers, "Why would I do that?" "To get back at Puck," Kurt reasons. "Aren't you guys dating?" Santana Lopez schools him thusly: "Sex is not dating." "If it were," Brittney blurts, "Santana and I would be dating." Pause. During which Santana Lopez looks both horrified and guilty, Brittney looks clueless, Artie looks vaguely intrigued, Mercedes and Single-T Tina look extremely uncomfortable, and Kurt arches a brow and gazes heavenward all, "A-ha!" while the entire audience screams, "WHAT?!?!?!!" and lunges for the remote to rewind. HA! And when the moment has passed, Santana Lopez pulls it back together to retort, "Look, I don't want to rock the boat -- since Quinn got pregnant, I'm top dog around here." Mercedes suddenly hisses for everyone to shut up, as the subject of this impromptu electronically enhanced non-kaffee kaffeeklatch happens to be passing by at this very moment. "Hey, hot mama!" Mercedes calls out to Rachel, flashing her teeth and her bling and her faux joviality until Rachel's out of earshot, after which Mercedes drops the affable act just as quickly as she'd assumed it to grunt, "Look, I know I screwed up telling all you guys about Quinn and Puck, and I feel really terrible about it, but we cannot let Rachel figure this out -- if she tells Finn, he's going to flip!" "And then we really have no chance at Sectionals," Kurt concludes, because his secret love has apparently deafened him to the fact that Finn's singing sucks. Title card.

"Are you sure about this?" Will asks, and when the camera reverses, we see he's chatting with the adorably attired Emma in her office, whose otherwise immaculately spartan desktop features a prominent tome entitled, simply, GERMS. In any event, Emma eagerly nods her head, and it quickly becomes apparent through the conversation that follows that she's volunteered to assume responsibility for the Glee Club until Will finds a way to put that unfortunate mattress incident behind him. Of course, this includes her chaperoning the over-aged children to Sectionals despite the fact that her wedding's scheduled for the same day, but she assures Will that she and Ken Tanaka agreed to push the ceremony back a few hours. And how did Emma manage to convince Ken to go along with this plan? "I appealed to him as an educator," she smiles.

Smear to earlier that morning, where Emma's once more braved the malodorous boys' locker room to appeal to Ken as an educator, and it's going as well as one would expect. "You will always choose Schuester over me!" Ken spits. Emma shoutily reminds her betrothed that Will won't even be there, and insists she's simply "doing this for the kids." "I really thought that you, of all people, would understand this!" she bleats. Ken Tanaka is many, many things -- skunk brain, incompetent football coach, fondue pot of nationalities that will open his kids up to a host of genetic diseases -- but he is no fool. Well, as far as Will and Emma are concerned, at least. "This time," he replies to her bleat, barely controlling his anger, "I don't think that I do." With that, he flounces on out of the locker room just as we...

...smear back to the present, where Emma lies that Ken couldn't be happier about the situation, and as Will practically giggles with joy over the news, Emma flashes a brief look of utter despair at the camera. Poor Emma.

Hallway. Devious Rachel barrels on over to a now visibly knocked-up Quinn and blurts, "Hey! I know it's not my place, but have you had your doctor run the full genetic test panel on your unborn child?" Quinn's all, "Whaaaaa?" so Rachel explains that her cousin Leon and his wife got pregnant before they found out he was a Tay-Sachs carrier, and everybody freaked until the fetus tested clean, and oh, my God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this because they'd only test for Tay-Sachs if one of the parents were Jewish and never mind and I'll see you at rehearsal and bye!

"You have to take me to go get those Jewish baby tests!" Quinn heatedly whispers to Puck moments later in the music room while Rachel peers above her copy of Jazz Hands magazine to watch the bickering couple from afar like a somewhat psychic (but definitely not telekinetic) hawk. "Does this have to happen tonight?" Puck wonders before leaning in to explain his hesitation in hushed, confidential tones, "Because I've got my fight club!" Oh, Puck. You darling little rule-breaker, you. Un

fortunately for those of you still interested in this neverending fetus drama, Mr. Schuester interrupts the tedious subplot by entering the music room at this moment to announce Emma's appointment as their new faculty advisor. Brittney's eyes go wide when Emma steps forward to accept the half-hearted applause coming from the other kids. "She's the one they made me talk to?" Brittney gapes, mortified. "When they found out I was keeping that bird in my locker?" Hee. My special TV girlfriend Santana Lopez flips her face-tautening ponytail around, focuses her scorn and derision squarely upon Miss Pillsbury, and condescends, "So, do you even know anything about music?" Mr. Schue side-steps that line of inquiry by pointing out that Miss Pillsbury cares about the club and its members as much as he does and, after offering them all a misty-eyed valedictory, he exits, leaving the kids to figure out the final Sectionals set list by themselves. And if you, like I, thought they decided on the final Sectionals set list two goddamned weeks ago watch what happens : They all quickly agree that "Proud Mary (In Wheelchairs)" and "Don't Stop Believing" are musts, but a tussle erupts over the ballad selection, mainly because (and I didn't notice this until just now) Single-T Tina -- who, as you'll recall, quite sweetly and capably took the lead on "True Colors" -- apparently has a sudden attack of nerves there in the chairs and intentionally wonders aloud what the third song will be, thus giving Rachel The Raging Egomaniac all the opening she needs to rise from her seat and offer her ballad expertise to the benefit of their collective Sectionals endeavor.

"Aw, hell no!" Mercedes pretty much shouts, leaping to her feet to protest "Miss Bossypants" and the latter's latest attempt at stealing the spotlight. "I've worked just as hard as you," Mercedes asserts, sassy hands firmly planted on sassy hips as she gets all up in Rachel's bidness, "and I'm just as good as you!" "Do you honestly think you're as strong of a balladeer as I am?" Rachel too-innocently wonders, leading to a very funny bit wherein Mercedes spins around to mouth "'Balladeer'?" at Gaylord Weiner and Butt Lunch -- neither of whom knows where Rachel gets off with her snooty-ass, trisyllabic locutions, either -- while Rachel obliviously assures Miss Pillsbury that ballads are kind of her thing. Heh. Emma, clearly feeling as if she's in a bit over her head, quietly suggests Rachel let Mercedes "give it a try," and for whatever reason, Rachel agrees. As she and Miss Pillsbury head over to the chairs, Mercedes shoots a little attitude in Tinkles's direction and asks -- sassily! -- "Do I even need to tell you what song?" Tinkles, God love him, replies with a broad smile and an enthusiastic shake of his head, so Mercedes instructs the horns and the strings to keep up, and here we go: Mercedes launches herself into an awkwardly truncated version of "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" from Dreamgirls, and while I asserted in the recaplet that Mercedes absolutely kills it, after rewatching Jennifer Holliday's 1982 Tony Award performance for the first time in several years (a certain Chicago nightspot, alas, having long ago retired it in favor of the inferior Jennifer Hudson version from the movie), I have to say I was wrong, because Jennifer Holliday killed it, and then Jennifer Holliday repeatedly brought it back from the dead so Jennifer Holliday could kill it over and over and over again in a performance unequalled in the last twenty-eight years, and this is coming from a guy who thinks Dreamgirls sucks. So, you know. Mercedes? Not so much with the killing it as I'd initially claimed. It is, however, a divalicious showcase of a performance in its own right, and it brings all of the other kids to their feet in a wild ovation -- except for Artie, of course, who has to make do with a wild ovation of the sitting sort for obvious reasons. And in the end, Rachel graciously concedes, honestly complimenting her sometime rival on the latter's power and presentation and whatnot, thereby securing for Mercedes the final spot in the Sectionals set list right before they all hug it out. Aw. Sort of.

Hallway. Finn and Rachel natter for a bit about what just transpired in the music room until Finn admits, "I'm kinda pumped about Sectionals." "It's just been a hard couple of months with Quinn and the baby and everything," he explains, "and I really think that winning could make everything good for a while." Rachel, whose face had fallen the instant Finn mentioned Quinn's fetus, screws up her courage and tells him, "I want you to be happy, Finn, and when you care about someone, you can't sit around and watch them suffer when you know that you can do something about it." Finn's all, "Yes...and?" so Rachel hems and haws and gulps and blinks and looks down at the filthy tiles on the floor and looks back up at Finn's face and the doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doos ominously intensify on the soundtrack until she finally opens her mouth and announces, "I have to tell you something." During the commercial.

BAM! BAM! BAM! We return from the break to find Frankenteen positively whaling on the hapless Mr. Puckerman in the music room until Mr. Schuester arrives from points unknown to break it all up, and long story short, Quinn and Puck confirm that the fetus is not, in fact, Finn's, so Frankenteen pitches a fit, quits life, and lurches from the rehearsal hall after taking out one more bit of his frustration on a blameless piece of furniture. Yawn. What? I'm sorry, but teen angst bullshit without a body count is boring. !

Crap. Out by the trophy case, Quinn sits listlessly on a ledge, stroking her ever-expanding stomach while gifting us all with a thousand-yard stare. Rachel approaches to apologize, even offering to allow Quinn to beat her up, but Quinn replies with, "I'm not mad at you -- all you did was what I wasn't brave enough to do." Rachel admits she had ulterior motives -- namely, to break Finn and Quinn up so Finn would leap into Rachel's comforting arms -- but Quinn's beyond caring at this point and simply asks Rachel to leave her alone. No sooner has Rachel left, however, than Puck pops up to shoulder his share of the responsibility for Quinn's fetus, but she tells him to go blow, as well, as she's decided to do "this" on her own. Did I get everything? Good. !

And suddenly, it's Saturday. There's an inexplicably amusing shot of a sadly subdued Artie getting hoisted into the special handicapable Sectionals bus they purchased with the ill-gotten gains from Puck's marijuana-laced cupcakes before Will peppers Emma with a number of last-minute instructions, after which J-Fro races up "reporting for duty," as he's evidently taking Pouty Frankenteen's place as New Directions' required twelfth for the purposes of that day's competition. "I have to tell you," J-Fro warns before boarding the special handicapable marijuana-laced Sectionals bus, "I get terrible public event anxiety." "Just sway in the back," Miss Pillsbury instructs him. Heh. And after Emma confirms that there's still been no word from Pouty Frankenteen, she follows J-Fro onto the special handicapable marijuana-laced Sectionals bus, and Will dejectedly stalks off into the commercial break without even waving them all off.

Buckeye Civic Auditorium, which is playing host to The Western Ohio High School Show Choir Sectionals featuring, for those of you who have forgotten, The Jane Addams Reform School, The Haverbrook School For The Deaf, and (of course) McKinley Senior High's New Directions. Out in the middle of the overcrowded lobby, the nervous McKinley kids fidget on various couches and chairs until Miss Pillsbury rejoins them to announce that she's got them all signed in, and that they've apparently drawn performance slot number three. "We're going last?" Single-T Tina scowls. "Isn't that bad?" Sensing her compatriots' unease, Rachel jumps up to reassure them with "Hardly! This is good news -- my extensive auditioning for community theater has taught me that we either want to go first or last." "If we're first," she overexcitedly claims, "then everyone has to measure up to us, and if we're last, then we're the freshest in the judges' minds!" "And," Kurt interrupts with an oh-so-sweet smile on his face, "did you ever get any of those parts?" Obviously not, from the way Rachel's suddenly clammed up, but Miss Pillsbury gamely -- nay, eagerly, for she is grasping at straws, here -- takes Rachel's side, insisting that they've found themselves in a very glass-half-full situation. Mercedes grinningly agrees, reminding her fellows that they've made it this far, after all, and they might as well walk in there brimming with "some positive mojo."

Alas, that positive mojo evaporates the instant the Jane Addams girls take to the stage, for International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig acquiesced to Sue Sylvester's nefarious plan, and her girls are now bringing the audience to its collective feet with a rousing rendition of "And I Am Telling You" that comes complete with a healthy amount of Jane Addams's signature booty-shaking. D'OH! Mercedes, absolutely crushed, stares at the travesty before her with mouth agape while Rachel, increasingly desperate to maintain her group's flagging and flailing spirits, fumbles around and manages to come up with a weak "It's a very popular song!" by way of attempted consolation, but Mercedes is having none of it, and buries her face in her hands. And then, just to add insult to injury, the reform school jailbait follows its opening number up with their own version of "Proud Mary (In Wheelchairs)" that, if anything, is even more enthusiastically received by the Sectionals audience than the Dreamgirls number was. Our increasingly sullen protagonists glower at the song-stealing hussies on the stage as Sue Sylvester's insistent, incessant drum-line theme marches onto the soundtrack to trample all over whatever else we might be hearing at the moment until...

...Emma, once more in the lobby, hyperventilates, "We've got a problem!" into her cell phone. "They're doing all of our numbers," she breathlessly continues, "and the kids are completely freaking out -- Artie keeps ramming himself into the wall, and I'm pretty sure Jacob Ben Israel just wet himself!" And in the far blurry background of the shot? Artie ramming himself into the wall. Repeatedly. HA! "I knew it!" Will seethes from the other end of the line. "Sue leaked the set list!" We know, pompadour. Keep it moving. "These kids need a leader right now!" Emma pleads, but it's not like Will and his mattress-molesting self can do anything about it, though he does urge her to hold tight while he tries to wrest a solution to this latest problem of theirs from the depths of his funky-fresh new jack swing ass. First, however, he must confront that wicked mastermind Sue Sylvester herself, who just happens to be striding through McKinley's halls this Saturday morning in a spiffily evil black tracksuit with Satanically stylish red stripes because she needed to stop by and feed her Venus Flytrap. And no, that is not some sort of sick, demented Ryan Murphy euphemism -- Sue Sylvester is so awesome, she has an actual Venus Flytrap in her actual office at school. Kick ass. "What kind of teacher are you?" Will howls, stomping on over to seethe in her casually gum-snapping face, "You leaked the set list, and you're not going to get away with it!" "That is a libelous accusation," Sue immediately replies, despite the fact that it would actually be a slanderous accusation were it not true, "and I insist you retract it immediately." "You have no proof," she calmly challenges him. "You are the only person who had the list!" he screams, his eyes bugging out as that vein on his neck starts jutting from his throat as it is wont to do in like situations. "But other than that," Sue counters with a smile, "you have no proof." Will, speechless with rage, flounders about in the hallway while Sue expertly takes charge of the situation. "It's time to face facts, William," she

tells him. "At 1 PM this afternoon, your little club will have had its shot at the big time, and they will have failed." "Glee Club will be cancelled," she continues, clearly reveling in this moment, "and all that money that Figgins has been funneling into your budget will finally and rightfully be restored to mine!" Will makes with the ineffectual threatening noises, vowing revenge or some such, which of course only serves to strengthen Sue's resolve. "Bring it on!" she snarls in response to his threats before giving him a withering once over and continuing, "I am reasonably confident you will be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hairstyle that doesn't make you look like a lesbian." HA! And to top it all off, the magnificent Sue Sylvester coos, "Love ya like a sistah!" before kissing her fingertips and pressing them against his lips. Hee. "Get your hands off me," a thoroughly humiliated Will growls, so Sue of course rises to his challenge and pointedly shoves him backwards. "You're not gonna push a woman, are ya?" she taunts, and when Will simply sighs in frustration, she smiles, "Didn't think so." And with that, Sue Sylvester fist-pumps her way on out of there. I think I'm in love. Again.

Locker Room. Mr. Schuester, having apparently taken a moment to calm himself after his late confrontation with the fabulous Sue Sylvester, ambles in to find Finn cleaning out his locker, as football season came and went while absolutely no one was paying attention to it. "Sounds like something that could've waited until Monday," Mr. Schue leads, blatantly twirling his car keys around between his fingers. Frankenteen looks guilty, then asks if Mr. Schue's heard anything. "Yeah," Mr. Schue nods, "and it's pretty bad." More teen angst bullshit entirely devoid of a body count ensues, so I'll cut to the chase: Mr. Schuester stresses that the Glee Club has found itself in a desperate situation, and reiterates his belief that New Directions cannot win without Finn, because Mr. Schuester has never, ever realized how much Frankenteen's singing sucks. And Jesus, don't even get me started on his so-called dancing. Ow. OW. ANY-way, the scene ends with Mr. Schuester asserting that Finn is "special" -- a fact with which I agree, although I am nearly 100% certain Will's got a different definition of that word in mind -- and when Finn wistfully wishes everything could go back to the way it was before the series premiere, Will slaps his keys down on one of the benches and meaningfully replies, "You can't always get what you want." Mr. Schue rises to exit, ambling out as casually as he'd ambled in, giving Frankenteen ample opportunity to lurch over to the bench Mr. Schue'd been occupying and call out, "You forgot your keys!" "No, I didn't," Mr. Schuester predictably replies without so much as a glance back, and with that, he strolls right into the commercial break.

Buckeye Civic Auditorium. Half-Deaf Guy From Haverbrook whose actual character name I can't be bothered to look up because we're never going to see him again after tonight's presentation treats International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig to a couple of celebratory giant pretzels at the concession stand because, as he puts it, "One of us is gonna win this thing," given the fact that they both apparently acquiesced to Sue Sylvester's nefarious plan. Barely have they torn into their celebratory giant pretzels, however, when Emma -- a bit haggard-looking since last we saw her, but defiantly unbowed -- appears to scold them for making use of the purloined McKinley set list. Half-Deaf Guy From Haverbrook and International Recording Artist Eve vehemently deny Emma's accusation, of course, but Emma won't let it go, and lectures them on what terrible life lessons these two supposed educators are offering to their already challenged charges and wah, and the only thing you really need to know about this scene is that International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig seem to be regretting their decision to cheat. !

Emma rolls her eyes all the way into the back of her skull as the kids from Haverbrook tunelessly howl their way through "Don't Stop Believing," and oh, my God. We don't see the actual performance, given that they've chosen to treat us to a variety of delicious audience reaction shots instead, but the Haverbrook kids sound just as awful as you were expecting them to the moment we all learned a deaf choir was supposed to be McKinley's primary Sectionals competition back during the sixth episode. Don't lie. Mating walruses is what you expected to hear, and mating walruses is what you've finally received. I love this show. Of course, the teary-eyed gentleman sitting directly in front of an increasingly agitated Rachel finds this all terribly touching in the extreme, and as he dabs at his watery cheeks with a delicate handkerchief, Rachel finally explodes. "Meet me in the green room in five minutes!" she bellows at her fellow clubbers, just barely making herself heard over the deliriously wrong caterwauling pouring from the stage, and she flounces right into...

...said green room, five minutes later, where we find most of her thoroughly demoralized, disheartened, and depressed compatriots slumped over in chairs while Kurt angrily accuses Brittney and Santana Lopez of being "Sue Sylvester's little moles." Before either get a chance to deny it, Quinn confirms that Sue did, indeed, task them with spying on the Glee Club's activities, but Santana Lopez angrily insists that neither she nor Brittney gave Sue the set list. "Well, uh?" Brittney begins. "I did? But I didn't know what she was gonna do with it?" Oh, Brittney! Santana Lopez rolls her eyes and tells the others they can believe what they want, but the fact is no one's forcing her to participate in Sectionals. "And if you ever tell anyone this, I'll deny it," she adds, "but I like being in Glee Club -- it's the best part of my day, okay? -- and I wasn't gonna go mess it up." This shocking revelation stuns everyone present into silence, or something, until Rachel kindly allows that she, for one, believes everything Santana Lopez just said, but that's not going to help them win this thing. They need to strategize, and they need to strategize fast. First up: A new ballad. While Mercedes does have other appropriate songs in her repertoire, she admits none of them have the impact of "And I Am Telling You," and none of them therefore can match -- much less top -- whatever Rachel's got up her aggravatingly well rehearsed sleeve at the moment. "You're the best singer that we've got," Mercedes allows, disappointed at the way things have turned out, but with absolutely no animosity towards Rachel. Kurt, of course, has animosity to spare, but even he's forced to admit that Mercedes is right. "Rachel's our star," he sighs, having long ago slumped into a thoroughly demoralized, disheartened, and depressed chair of his own, "and if anyone's gonna go belt it on the fly, it should be her." Rachel, grateful, admits she does happen to have something she's been working on since she was four, and with the new ballad thus nailed down, everyone hastily agrees to close with a reprise of "Somebody to Love," but that still means they're one number short. Whatever shall they do?

It's a musical comedy, remember? Butt Lunch, Gaylord Weiner, Santana Lopez, and Brittney are immediately tasked with whipping up a bit of song-appropriate choreography and, after Frankenteen regales them all with a pep talk I'll not be bothering to transcribe, Finn asks J-Fro, "Cool if I take my spot back?" "Quite," J-Fro fastidiously replies before admitting, "I was just here because I was hoping to get into Rachel's pants." Ew! Hee! Ew! Hee! Ew! , Puck and Quinn attempt to make amends, but Frankenteen is in no way ready to put up with that sort of crap right now, and he instead chooses to lumber over to Rachel, above whom he looms for a very long moment until she finally thinks to ask, "You okay?" "Don't worry about me, 'kay?" he smiles. "This is all up to you now -- you wanted the solo, you wanted the chance to be a star? This is your chance: Don't screw it up." It's no "You're going out a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!" but it'll do, I suppose. Finn offers her a friendly little grin before peeling off to join the furious rehearsal session already in progress on the far end of the room, leaving a suddenly jittery Rachel to panic herself all the way into the commercial break.

Buckeye Civic Auditorium. Emma's taken her seat on the aisle and has already patched Will in via cell, so the two have nothing left to do except fret and babble at each other until the emcee strides out onto the stage to announce, "And now, our final team: McKinley High's New Directions!" A vamp I recognize instantly hits the soundtrack as the camera jumps backstage to capture Rachel steeling herself for the plunge through that forbidding curtain in front of her, and then...

...psych! She wasn't backstage at all! Nope, Rachel's rather daringly chosen to make her entrance through the audience, and without hesitation, she propels herself into her version of "Don't Rain On My Parade" from Funny Girl, and stone me if you must, but Barbra did it better. This show might want to consider avoiding iconic Broadway showstoppers in the future. Just saying. Or maybe I should stop watching the better-known originals while I'm recapping these episodes because, to be honest with you, while Barbra did it better, Lea Michele certainly is kicking a lot of ass, here. (And she's way more enjoyable to watch and listen to than her elder doppelganger was at last year's Kennedy Center Honors. Yeesh.) She starts off a little weakly, but I suppose that's meant to be a character choice, because by the time she's marching her band out in the form of the eleven other Glee Club kids making triumphant entrances of their own down the theater's side aisles, she's well into the sort of full-on belter wail I've grown to expect from this number, and once she hits and sustains that final note, I have no problems believing that Rachel's Sectionals audience would leap to its feet in rapturous applause as it now does. Maybe I'll watch it again.

Okay, it's growing on me. But still: Barbra? With the mink turban? And the Cleopatra eye makeup? And the carrot-colored dress and the luggage and the roses and the tugboat and the nails? Flawless. FLAWLESS.

Ahem.

Right. So, where was I? Oh, yes: Rachel's Sectionals audience leaps to its feet in rapturous applause, and I can't help but feel a little misty-eyed myself now that Rachel's finally getting the sort of adulation she's craved since first we met her way back in May. In any event, once the ovation dies down, Rachel reintroduces the group, and with little fanfare, they begin the song Finn threw at them at the last minute. Unsurprisingly, given Will's neon-lit Meaningful Line towards the end of that locker room scene I all but ignored, that song is "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones, and it's...ridiculous. The choreography's a little too polished, the audience is way too into it, Will and Emma practically bursting into tears of joy on either end of their open phone line is just too much, and I really have nothing else to say about it. Well, other than to note that International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig are scowling away in their seat, perhaps having just realized they violated their ethical standards for nothing, but that's not important right now, because we've got to jump ahead to the...

...SECTIONAL JUDGES ROOM at 12:15 PM, as the little label splashed across the screen so helpfully informs us. A stone-faced matron of color sits at a table adjacent to a bleached blonde sporting a cotton candy-colored satin suit who...holy crap! It's Sarah Newlin from HBO's True Blood! Love her. Let's have a listen, shall we? "Okay, I'm just gonna come out and say it!" she begins, and this oughta be good. "This is a singing competition. I don't know how those deaf kids got in -- they weren't singing, they were, like, honking, and everyone was crying, and I was, like, 'Get off the stage! You're terrible and you're making me super uncomfortable!'" HA! In the middle of that magnificent speech, another label popped onto the screen identifying her as "Candace Dystra, 5th Runner-Up Miss Ohio 2006." Hee. "Now, hold on just a second, Candy," a velvety baritone interrupts, and when the camera flips over to the gentleman in question, we can see that those marvelous tones are emanating from none other than Sue Sylvester's erstwhile paramour Rod Remington, whose label further identifies him as "Co-Anchor WOHN-TV, Ohio Legend." Snerk. In any event, Rod continues, "Those Haverhurst [sic] kids twice had me reaching for my handkerchief, and those Jane Addams girls? Had it goin' on in all the right places." "Can I just say something?" The Stone-Faced Matron Of Color chimes in. "I have no idea what the hell I'm doing here!" Her label informs us she's "Donna Landries, Ohio Vice Comptroller, State-Paid Cynic." "I'm serious," she continues, "I don't understand what a glee club is, and I have never even heard the term 'show choir' until about three hours ago when my boss told me he had tickets to NASCAR, and I had to fill in at this fool event." The fact that our protagonists have spent the last thirteen episodes agonizing over Sectionals, only to have that competition judged by these spectacularly unqualified and incompetent idiots? Brilliant. Bravo, Glee. Bravo.

By Demian

Cut to The Edward J. Veasey Memorial VFW Hall Post 1275, which has been lavishly decorated for Emma and Ken's sham wedding. One problem: Nobody's bothered to show up, as Will discovers when he enters to find Emma sitting at a table, alone, in her perfect Audrey Hepburn wedding gown. "Where's Ken?" he buhs. "Home, I'd imagine," Emma sighs before adding, "Probably trying to regain some of the pride that I stole from him." Off Will's perplexed expression, Emma elaborates, "He dumped me -- he said moving the wedding for Sectionals was the last straw." Will bumbles something about thinking Ken understood the entire situation, and Emma gently notes that Ken understood the entire situation all too well. Will, on the other hand, has been a clueless dipshit about the entire situation ever since the series began, so Emma's forced to spell it out for him like so: She didn't go to stupid Sectionals for the stupid kids -- she went to stupid Sectionals for stupid Will. Okay, so I paraphrased a bit. Sue me. In any event, Stupid Will has the gall to appear flabbergasted at this so-called revelation, and just when I've become impatient enough with this scene to fast-forward through to the end of it, Emma drops an actual bombshell: Understandably unable to return to McKinley given how badly she's handled everything in both her personal and professional lives as of late, she's e-mailed her resignation to Figgins, and her last day is this coming Monday. Poor Emma dissolves into tears and rises to flee, but Will grabs at her arm at the last moment to remind her, "I just left my wife." "Exactly," Emma replies. "You just did." With that, she offers him a brave little smile before scurrying from the hall, leaving him all by his lonesome to brood.

Principal Figgins's office, the following Monday. He's summoned Sue and Will to inform them both that Half-Deaf Guy From Haverbrook and International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig admitted to receiving the McKinley set list from Sue. "You have no proof," Sue immediately counters. The set lists were on Cheerios letterhead. "I didn't do it!" On Cheerios letterhead marked "From The Desk Of Sue Sylvester." "Circumstantial evidence!" The set lists were written in Sue's handwriting! "Forgeries!" Figgins finally exclaims, "There is an orgy of evidence stacked against you!" and my, but that's a vivid image. "Well, you've clearly made up your mind not to be impartial in this case," Sue faux-exasperates, "so let's see if you can't wrap up this little lecture, slap me on the wrist, and let me get back to whipping my squad of champions into shape!" "We have to be in Albuquerque in a couple of weeks for Nationals," she blithely reminds her supposed boss, rising to show him her back as she marches towards the door. "Sue!" Figgins bellows in tones that will brook no dissent. "Sit down!" Sue imperiously meets him halfway by latching onto the back of her chair for what follows, and it's not pretty. Not pretty at all. "As of today," Figgins announces, "you are no longer coach of the Cheerios." Shock! Gasp! Generalized consternation! Figgins is forced to repeat himself at least once, then must shout above Sue's howls of outrage to explain his decision: "All this time, I thought Mr. Schuester was overreacting, and frankly? I was too willing to look past your monkeyshines because you kept winning, but now you've gone too far! You have embarrassed yourself and besmirched the name of William McKinley." "A failed president!" Sue rages. "The greatest one who ever lived!" Figgins rages right back. Hee! "You are suspended from this school," Figgins finishes, "as of today!" "My word is official!" he declares, slapping his desk for emphasis. "Let it be written!" Heh. Sue beats a strategic retreat, but there's murder in her eyes. We'll deal with that delightful development in a few moments, though, for first Principal Figgins must reinstate Will as official Glee Club faculty advisor, which we all knew he was going to do sooner or later, and with that, we head out into...

...the hallway, where Will's immediately beset by a wrathful Sue Sylvester, and trust me when I tell you that a wrathful Sue Sylvester is a joy forever. "Here's what happens now," she menaces, drawing ever closer to him during the lines that follow. "I'm-a head on down to my condo in Boca, brown up a bit, get myself back into fighting shape, and then I'm gonna return to this school even more hell-bent on your destruction." "Get ready for the ride of your life, Will Schuester," she continues. "You are about to board The Sue Sylvester Express. Destination? Horror!" Hee. "You just woke a sleeping giant," Sue concludes. "Prepare to be crushed." She allows him scant time to respond, choosing instead to stalk off down the hallway, quite literally tossing cheerleaders and freshmen left and right as she heads out of the building until...well, until April, I guess. Is that a spoiler? Oh, screw it.

Music room. The kids have requested Mr. Schuester's presence for a couple of special presentations and, after being far too coy about it for far too long, they haul out the first-place trophy the judges unanimously awarded them at Sectionals. That's all right. Everybody can go ahead and cheer now, but remember: up is Regionals, and Vocal Adrenaline -- as we all well remember -- never sleeps, so New Directions has plenty of work ahead of them. And that second special presentation? Well, since Mr. Schuester wasn't able to see their award-winning performance two days ago, the kids have thrown together a little routine just for him. They playfully push him into a seat, and almost immediately, it begins: A cover version of Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You," and while the song itself is pretty fun, far better is the performance's choreography, which incorporates pieces from just about every single major number they've performed thus far this season, most obviously segments from "Last Name," "Hate On Me," "Single Ladies," "I Say A Little Prayer," the competing "Vitamin D" mash-ups, "Sit Down, You're Rocking The Boat," "Push It," "Hair," and "Proud Mary (In Wheelchairs)."

Unfortunately, we don't really get a good look at any of them, because intercut with this ecstatic display of irrational adolescent exuberance are scenes from what happens immediately after the song's finished in show-world time. Will, reinvigorated by the kids' ecstatic display of irrational adolescent exuberance, or some such bullshit, tears off down the school's deserted hallway in slow-motion, arriving at Emma's now-empty office just moments too late to bid her a proper farewell. But what's this? Could it be? Is that the adorably clad Emma lingering at the far end of yet another hallway, photogenically backlit by the rays from the late afternoon sun that stream through the window behind her? It is! Will, still reinvigorated by the kids' ecstatic display of irrational adolescent exuberance, or some such bullshit, tears off down yet another of the school's deserted hallways in slow-motion, arriving at Emma's photogenically backlit location just in time to plant a sloppy wet one on Emma's surprised lips. And how does she react?

By Demian

Why, listen to Frankenteen, of course! For yes, gentle reader, Finn heeded the advice I'm sure Mr. Schuester gave him during that scene I pretty much ignored a few pages ago, found an appropriate song online, and defiantly Xeroxed the sheet music on the Cheerios machine back at McKinley before trashing the blameless photocopier, after which he sped to The Buckeye Civic Auditorium in Mr. Schue's borrowed car -- hopefully avoiding any errant mailmen who happened across his path -- in order to lead New Directions to victory. Just go with it. It's a musical comedy, remember? Butt Lunch, Gaylord Weiner, Santana Lopez, and Brittney are immediately tasked with whipping up a bit of song-appropriate choreography and, after Frankenteen regales them all with a pep talk I'll not be bothering to transcribe, Finn asks J-Fro, "Cool if I take my spot back?" "Quite," J-Fro fastidiously replies before admitting, "I was just here because I was hoping to get into Rachel's pants." Ew! Hee! Ew! Hee! Ew! , Puck and Quinn attempt to make amends, but Frankenteen is in no way ready to put up with that sort of crap right now, and he instead chooses to lumber over to Rachel, above whom he looms for a very long moment until she finally thinks to ask, "You okay?" "Don't worry about me, 'kay?" he smiles. "This is all up to you now -- you wanted the solo, you wanted the chance to be a star? This is your chance: Don't screw it up." It's no "You're going out a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!" but it'll do, I suppose. Finn offers her a friendly little grin before peeling off to join the furious rehearsal session already in progress on the far end of the room, leaving a suddenly jittery Rachel to panic herself all the way into the commercial break.

By Demian

Ahem.

By Demian

Meanwhile, out in the hall, the McKinley kids are trying to eavesdrop on the deliberations through the door, and I really hope they can hear Ms. Landries as she complains, "Those Jane Addams girls? I'll be damned if I didn't apportion hundreds of thousands of taxpayers' dollars to that school so they can parade their behinds like a bunch of hoochie hos!" Candy ditzes something about appreciating New Directions' energy despite their obvious lack of rehearsal time, which allows Rod Remington to suave, "I have to admit I have a soft spot for The Rolling Stones -- I was at Altamont Speedway in '69! I actually saw that guy get stabbed! Can't get that image out of my noggin to this day." Wrong. So, so wrong. Hee! Candy's breathlessly impressed by Rod Remington's admission, but Ms. Landries wisely ignores it to continue to bitch about how pointless this entire competition is. "If I had to pick a group that I hated the least?" she begins, but we never get to hear the rest of her thought, for the camera's leapt back outside to the hall, where Artie glumly notes that it doesn't sound good for any of them. Barely have the kids had time to process that, however, when International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig teeter down the hall towards them atop a precarious pair of pumps to confess to their Sue-inspired malfeasance, or whatever, and announce their intention to withdraw Jane Addams from consideration. Unfortunately, our lovely judges have already arrived at their decision, though we'll have to wait until after the final commercial break to find out how these dolts voted.

By Demian

Chez Schue, later that day. Having expected Terri to be spending the entire afternoon over at Sheets 'N Things, Will sneaked back into his apartment to change for Emma's wedding, only to have Terri surprise him when she unexpectedly returns from work in the middle of her shift. They attempt some uncomfortable small talk before getting to the weepy fallout from last week's shocking revelations regarding betrayal and mendacity and unsightly pregnancy pad-related rashes, but it's just a coda to their story arc over the first thirteen episodes, and while it's of course well-played by Matthew Morrison and Jessalyn Gilsig (especially Jessalyn Gilsig), all you really need to know at this point in the series is that she wants him back, and that he thinks she's a scary mutant freak. !

By Demian

Find out in April, suckers! Muah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Demian's surprisingly okay with the five-month-long hiatus. You may forward all hate mail to demian_twop@yahoo.com.

Discuss this episode in our forums, then see where the Glee Club will be in 20 years at the McKinley High School Reunion.