It's real estate week on Glee. Sue's used her evil wiles to get the Glee Club evicted from the auditorium for the week, so Will has to find them a new home. That home turns out to be the cabaret roller-skating rink run by our little orange friend April (who never made it to Branson, but who did make it into the arms of a wealthy older lover). But they don't actually ever rehearse there -- it's all an excuse to get Will and April together. See, he's decided he needs to sublet his fabulous apartment and move to a smaller place, and April just happens to be looking for a place to rent. So she spends the night at his place to try it on for size, and they end up spending a non-sexual (but decidedly musical) night in bed together. But she doesn't end up subletting his place, because her lover kicks the bucket and his wife buys April's silence with a hefty payment, enabling her to leave town and pursue her Broadway dreams.
Meanwhile, Kurt has decided to redecorate -- his bedroom, his father, Finn's mother and Finn's house. That's all because he fixed his dad up with Finn's mom in an attempt to build a new family -- one that he wants to share with the object of his unrequited crush. But then his plotting bites him on the ass when he discovers that he's insanely jealous when his father starts to bond with Finn. Finn, for his part, is completely opposed to his mom moving on with her life, but he comes around in the end when he realizes how much his mom and Kurt's dad mean to each other.
And in other real estate news, Sue tells Mercedes that she's got a little too much real estate. In her booty, that is -- Sue wants Mercedes to lose ten pounds before a reporter arrives to do a cover piece on Sue, or she'll kick her off the Cheerios. Egged on by Kurt, Mercedes starves herself until she faints and finds herself in the nurse's office, where Quinn is extremely nice to her and tells her how beautiful she is. Mercedes gets the message, because at the pep rally (attended by the reporter), she ditches the planned program and leads the school in a lovely rendition of Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful." Sue is mortified, but it turns out the song convinced the reporter that Sue wasn't actually a horrible harpy. Even when she loses, she wins.
Previously, on Glee, Demian linked to the entire internet. Way to make me look like a slacker, pal. Also, before we begin, a quick note: it seems clear from the reaction on the forums and from my casual perusal of the tubes that this may be the most polarizing episode of Glee yet. Some of you hated the cheesy sentimentality, some of you loved it. Some of you thrilled to the Bacharach-heavy musical selections, while the same songs left some of you yawning (or running for Google, because you thought Bacharach was a kind of crystal, or a card game James Bond played). Some of you are infuriated that Rachel didn't get a single solo and barely had a line, and some of you seem almost insanely pleased by that. As for me, the music wasn't entirely my cup of tea, although it was exquisitely performed (for the most part). And after last week's Madge-stravaganza, it was inevitable that there would have to be an episode that gave Lea Michelle a break and featured no real choreography, so the Rachel-lite, low-key nature of the performances was understandable. And, finally, I have at various times in my life been in almost the exact same emotional space as Kurt, Finn, and Finn's mother. (My denim vest addiction was legendary.) So the episode left me quite emotionally drained. (Also, two of the plot line are pretty much completely recycled from Ryan Murphy's last major-network teen show, Popular, which definitely dropped the grade a bit.)
Sue's office. Kurt and Mercedes, in their Cheerios duds, are sitting across from Sue. Sue is dressing down Mercedes for the way she's been dressing. At first, Sue thought the fact that Mercedes was constantly wearing a Cheerios tracksuit was "a subtle homage to yours truly. But now I fear it's some sort of ironic comment." Mercedes is uncomfortable wearing those shorty-short cheerleading skirts (because, she claims, she's "afraid of showing too much skin and starting a sex riot"). But Sue doesn't care about Mercedes' feelings (or about the adorable simultaneous finger-wiggling, hair-smoothing gesture Kurt and Mercedes just used in place of a high five). "Splits magazine, after much campaigning by one Sue Sylvester, has named me cheerleading coach of the last 2,000 years." The last 2,000 years? Come on, Sue, you're good, but you don't hold a candle to Priscilla the Hun. It is widely acknowledge that the Huns would never have made it across the Danube in 440 A.D. without the inspiration of her genius performance set to "Vinciamus," by the kithera and cornu group, Regina. And her human pyramids contained up to 1,000 people. Of course, most of those were headless corpses. But still. In any case, Sue is expecting reporter Tracy Pendergrass to come to the school in seven days to write her profile, and if Mercedes doesn't lose ten pounds and start wearing a skirt, she'll be off the Cheerios. Kurt protests, but Sue tells her that he could stand to lose a few pounds himself, pointing out that he has "hips like a pear." Sue dismisses them: "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to put in a call to the Ohio Secretary of State notifying them I will no longer be carrying photo ID. You know why? People should know who I am." Title card.
Teachers' lounge. Will bursts into the room and rushes up to the table where Sue is eating. He's just discovered that the auditorium is padlocked. Sue: "Well that's curious. Did you check the sign-up sheet?" What sign-up sheet is that, you ask (as does Will)? Sue: "Why, the one I keep right here in my waist-band, William." Sue pulls out the sign-up sheet and discovers that the Cheerios have booked the auditorium for the entire week to prepare for her big interview. Will threatens to complain to Maharishi Figgins, but Sue tells him not to bother. "Oh, I'm sure Figgins will just mumble something nervously and then pretend to take a phone call. I'm blackmailing him." Will's reaction to Sue's confession of lawbreaking is... muted, at best.
Music room, end of practice. Will is telling the kids that they won't be able to practice in the auditorium that week. They're upset, because they have to practice for Regionals (which, based on the schedule for Sectionals, are in either two weeks or eight months). Rachel recommends a sit-in. Puck advises arson. Oh, Puck -- you just go stand in the auditorium and I'm sure it'll catch on fire from your hotness. But Will tells them not to do anything. He's going to find someplace away from school that they can practice for the week. "I promise I'll find us a new home." What was that Will? "A new home." Sorry, I didn't catch that last word. "Home." Sorry, say that again? "HOME!" Oh, home. Now I get it. (And now that we've established that this is the secret word of the week, I refuse to use it again in this recap.) The bell rings and the kids all leave. But on the way out, Kurt grabs Finn and asks him to look at his three-foot by three-foot swatch board, because he wants Finn's opinion on his bedroom redecorating ideas. Kurt's goal is "hunting lodge meets Tom Ford's place in Bel Air." He thinks Finn will have some useful tips on the "hunting lodge" part. Finn begs off, noting that "there's cowboy wallpaper on the walls" of his bedroom. Kurt just barely manages not to lose his lunch at this revelation. In an attempt to be helpful, Finn randomly points at something on the board and claims it looks nice. Kurt: "Toile? I always pegged you for a chinoiserie type." Finn does not understand a single word Kurt just said, and he walks away silently. Kurt smiles, as though Finn's selection of fabrics has revealed that they are, indeed, soulmates.
Cafeteria. Kurt chastises Mercedes for her lunch selection. She quite rightly tells him that a chicken breast and salad (dressing on the side) is pretty damn healthy. But he thinks that nutritious meals are not the way to lose ten pounds in a week. He's enjoying being part of the in-crowd, and he'll be damned if he'll let his best friend's health jeopardize that. Mercedes walks up to Santana and Brittany and asks them how they stay so thin. They both raise their Cheerios water bottles, HNS-style, and tell her it's the "Sue Sylvester Master Cleanse." Which, according to Sue, (in a flash sideways in which she demonstrates the recipe to Santana, Brittany, and Becky consists of "water, maple syrup for glucose, lemon for acid, paprika to irritate the bowels, and a dash of ipecac, a vomiting agent. I haven't had a solid meal since 1987.") Back in the cafeteria, Brit-Brit tells Mercedes, "sometimes I add a teaspoon of sand." Santana rejects the objection that this recipe sounds horribly unhealthy, telling Mercedes that the can either look great and feel terrible or get kicked off the team. Mercedes walks away from her perfectly healthy lunch while our two lesbo-riffic Cheerios take swigs of their dangerous swill. And then we see Quinn, holding an empty tray and standing in the corner, watching all of this with a look on her face that says, "Why am I standing here holding an empty tray?"
Casa Hudson. Finn and some woman who could not possibly be his mother because she has a fashionable haircut and is not wearing a denim vest stand and watch as a couple of guys carry out the quilted headboard of the ugliest bed ever made. Finn's not happy, because this mysterious lady stranger just gave away his mom and dad's honeymoon bed. Wouldn't their honeymoon bed be the bed in the hotel where they had their honeymoon? Did they steal the bed from the hotel? Finn was conceived in that bed, and he doesn't want it to be given away. The fashionable and mysterious woman must be Finn's mother, because she knows for a fact that Finn was really conceived on top of a pinball machine. My hilarious joke about spinners and rollovers is made pointless based on the fact that I doubt many of you have ever actually seen a pinball machine. Curse the passage of time! One of the guys carrying the headboard comes back in and asks about the recliner. Mrs. Finn is happy to give it away, but Finn freaks out. It was his dad's recliner, and the one picture they have of Finn and his father was taken in that chair. He tells the guy it's not for sale and all but kicks him out of the house. Mrs. Finn tries to explain that a chair is just a chair, but Finn doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't understand why his mother is getting all fancified and selling their old furniture. She breaks the news that she's dating someone and that she thinks she may be in love. Finn asks who it is. It's his friend Brooke's father. Um, I mean, his friend Kurt's father.
Skating rink. Will is asking the dreadlocked attendant at the skate rental desk who he should talk to about renting the place out for Glee Club rehearsal. The attendant points off-camera, where we hear a high-pitched, slightly orange-sounding voice telling the boy skaters to grab a girl (or another guy, if that's how they roll), because it's a couple's skate. Will recognizes that voice, as do we. It's April Rhodes, last seen heading out of Lima for the bright lights and big hair of Branson. She sees Will across the floor and calls out his name, cheerfully telling everyone present that she just had a sex dream about him. Who hasn't, April? Who hasn't? April's standing on a platform in the center of the roller rink. Will ducks and weaves through the skaters and joins her on the platform. She tells him she smells something. No, it's not hair product, or woodland creatures backing cookies in his hair -- it's a duet. She calls out to the live band on the side of the rink to start playing Springsteen's "Fire." And they do, and after a verse, Will is sucked into singing with her. I love Cheno, and Will makes me feel funny in my tummy, so this is pretty nice. But it doesn't hold a candle to Elmer Fudd's cover of the song. Because that shit wocks. After a couple of verses, they start singing while skating. It looks like they hired the cast of Starlight Express to skate backup for them. And while April is wearing her customary head-to-toe denim, she's quite a bit less orange than she was previously. So at least she's got her tanning addiction under control. See, John Boehner, it is possible to cut back.
After the song, they sit at a table and catch up. Will wants to know why April didn't make it to Branson. April: "I was so jazzed about sobering up and starting a new life, I had to stop at a bar for a drink just to calm down." And she stayed at that bar, until one day strip-mall magnate Buddy Liebowitz came in, one drink led to another, and she became his mistress. Will is very disappointed that April didn't sober up, but she tells him to face facts: "I'm nothing but a washed-up dreamer. That's all I'll ever be. Besides, I finally realized my life-long ambition of being a mistress to an incredibly wealthy strip-mall tycoon, and the owner-operator of a cabaret roller rink." Ah yes, isn't that every little girl's dream? That reminds Will that he's there to ask to use the space, and she's thrilled to let the Glee Club use it. He tells her has to leave to show his apartment to a potential tenant, because he's decided to move to a smaller place now that he's getting a divorce. April: "Divorce?! So you're free to date? And by date, I mean sleep with people? And by sleep with, I mean have sex with people? People like me?" Will, whose only action for months has been a make-out session with Idina Menzel and some very frustrating almost-going-there sessions with Emma is still not so desperate that he doesn't look utterly terrified at this idea. April: "Kidding. Not really." Ah, kidding on the sly. The emotionally stunted person's preferred method of getting into someone else's pants. (Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.) But April is happy to tell Will that she's looking for an apartment to rent. The only condition is that now that April is "full time fancy," (by which I think she means no longer squatting in foreclosed properties), she's going to want to check the apartment out before she agrees to rent it. So she bids him adieu, telling him that she's going to get a bikini wax and she'll see him tomorrow. You know, I never waxed before going to an open house. Maybe that's why I didn't get all those condos. Commercials
Sue's office. It's weigh-in day for the Cheerios. First up is Becky, who's excited to see that she's lost two pounds. Sue: "Well, Becky, you are assimilating beautifully. Instead of being different, and an outcast, you're just like every other teenage girl in America, sadly obsessed with vanity. Hey, before you know it you'll be leaving little baggies of upchuck in your parents' linen closet." That's Sue Sylvester, folks -- a role model for young women everywhere. And now it's time for Mercedes. Sue's not thrilled that she's still in her tracksuit, but Mercedes is very optimistic that all of her exercise and starvation will show some good results. And then she gets on the scale and finds that she gained two pounds. Sue's not happy, and she tells Mercedes that she's only got four days to lose the weight and get into a skirt. Mercedes doesn't know what to do, and Sue tells her that the only lesson any Cheerio ever needs to learn is "you do whatever it takes." I think Sue is telling Mercedes that she should murder Sue and dump her body in a swamp. (You guys, I just made myself miss Mary Cherry.)
Kurt is walking down the hallway when Finn runs up to him and asks him what the hell is going on with their parents. It seems that Kurt accompanied Burt to a parent-teacher night at the school and watched as fate (i.e., Kurt) brought them together. We flash to that night and see Kurt, monitoring his father to ensure he only eats organic food (of which there is none in Lima), suddenly drag his father across the room and introduce him to Mrs. Finn (whose real name is Carol). Kurt tells them how much they have in common -- namely, they each have a dead spouse. Carol has her pre-fashionable hair, and she's wearing her trusty old denim vest. Burt: "I was just saying to a friend that acid-wash would make a comeback." Carol: "Who said it ever left?" Kurt did. Emphatically. In the background, Kurt is thrilled to see Burt and Carol getting along so well. Back in the present, Finn thinks all of this is utterly impossible. Kurt: "When will you ever learn that nothing is impossible when it comes to love?" He asks if Finn hasn't noticed anything different about his mother, like the new hair and the banishment of denim vests from her wardrobe? Those are all Kurt's doing. As is the selling of the bad furniture. Kurt predicts that he and Finn will be roommates by midterms. Finn is still in denial, but Kurt tells him to give in to the inevitable. This expectation that they will be sharing a room is the reason Kurt asked for Finn's input on the redecoration. Finn throws a tantrum, telling Kurt there's no way he's moving and there's no way he's letting his mother sell the chair.
Music room. The kids are less than thrilled at the idea of rehearsing in a roller rink. Santana: "Weren't those outlawed in, like, 1981 for being totally lame?" Will tells them not to look a gift drunk... I mean, "horse" in the mouth, since April is giving them the space for free. For some reason, Will lets Kurt take the floor. Kurt gives a strange speech. To wit, "The New Directions is clearly a club with a dearth of direction. Rachel and Jesse refuse to accept that all of us would rather die before we allow them to become the Beyonce and Jay-Z, and Finn's mother's romance with my father is sending him into a wholly unnecessary tailspin of despair. What we all need right now is to explore the idea of a sense of place, and how if we find that place within, we will get that happy ending." While he's talking, he grabs a convenient pile of sheet music and gives it to Will to hand out. And then he sings "A House is not a [the word I swore I wouldn't type again]." To Finn. Creeping out me and the rest of America. Chris Colfer sounds lovely singing this, but the best thing is of the reaction from the rest of the club. The mere mention of her name in the speech starts Rachel preening, even though she was clearly being insulted. Finn is freaking out, and Tina and Artie both trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Puck looks over at Finn and silently mouths, "You gay?"* Honey, if being looked at with lust by a gay guy was enough to make someone gay, you would have been joining the Lima Gay Men's Chorus by the end of the pilot, just based on the looks from me and Demian alone. Best of all are Santana and Brit-Brit, who hook pinkies as Santana lays her head on Brit's shoulder. In the middle of the song, there's a mysterious cut to Finn, singing a verse to the urn holding his father's ashes, sitting in the recliner. It's a little jarring musically, because he's singing it pretty high (which makes sense for his character, if he's only ever heard Kurt sing the song) and he's just not as good at that as Chris Colfer. Commercials.
* Some forum posters maintain that Puck actually mouthed "Your dad?" (or "Your chair?") to Finn. That may be so. But "You gay?" is funnier, so let's just pretend that happened.
Oh, and remember how at the beginning of this recap I mentioned that I had pretty much the same emotional experience as Kurt? Yeah. Junior year of high school. German exchange student lived with us, and we shared a room. I fell madly in love with him. And I was a creepy, manipulative, jealous freak. So I'm really not in any position to judge Kurt for his bizarre machinations in this episode. Because I did as much, if not more. And we shall not discuss it any further.
April arrives at Will's. She's carrying an overnight bag, because she plans on spending the night. Purely in the interests of deciding if she wants to rent his apartment, of course. No ulterior motive whatsoever. Will isn't so comfortable, but April disclaims any interest in a hook-up. She's just feeling a little lonely and would like to sleep in a house that has somebody else in it. Will can sympathize. He tells April she can stay, but only on the couch, and liquor cabinet is off limits. April doesn't need his dusty booze -- she brought her own bottle of wine. She is getting fancy -- wine in a bottle instead of a box. I guess that's what you get with strip mall money. As Will is getting sheets and things for April, she's putting a CD in the stereo. As Will goes off to his bedroom, the music starts to play. April takes her coat off, revealing that she was wearing her nightie underneath it. And nothing else. And then she launches into a medley of "One Less Bell to Answer" and "A House is not a [sorry, Cheno, I just won't type it]." (I think this is the same medley recorded by Barbra in 1971, but someone gayer than me will have to confirm that.) Will joins in on the second verse. They move around their respective spaces, getting ready for bed. At one point, Will comes out of the bedroom to tuck April in and kiss her on the forehead. And you think the song is done, but they keep on singing. This song is basically the entire third act of the episode. As the song turns to "A House is not a [not in a million years]," April gets off the couch and walks into Will's darkened bedroom, crawling into bed with him. But no hanky panky. They just sing and hold hands. For reals. And damn, those two sound good singing together.
Breadsticks restaurant. The Hummel-Hudson clan is having their first meal together. Burt and Carol sit on one side of the table while Kurt and a very glum Finn sit on the other side. Kurt makes a preposterous toast, comparing the merging of their two families with the first meeting of the Bouviers and the Kennedies. Wait a minute, Selma never married a Kennedy. A Terwilliger, a Hutz, a McClure, a Stu, and a Simpson. But never a Kennedy. Really, if the writers can't be assed to do some basic research, I don't know why I bother. Kurt refers to the gathering as "our little family," and Finn mutters that they are not a family. Burt is, as you would expect, completely wonderful here. He totally gets that Finn is uncomfortable, and he goes out of his way to make this a casual dinner rather than some momentous occasion. And he pretty quickly pulls Finn out of his shell with talk of sports. It takes about ten seconds for Kurt to become insanely jealous.
Casa Hummel. Kurt's in the basement, tearing paint sample chips off the wall. His father enters and asks if he's picked one. With tears in voice, Kurt tells him that they're all wrong. Burt jokes that they all look like different shades of gray to him. Kurt: "Well maybe if they were different color sports uniforms you'd work harder to try to tell them apart." And then they fight. Kurt is completely in the wrong, accusing his father of essentially throwing him over for the jock son he's "obviously always wanted." (Tidbit -- Kurt dragged his father to Riverdance three years in a row. Some future husband is going to bring that up every time he and Kurt disagree about which movie to go see.) And Burt says all the right things. And yet, I can understand Kurt's pain, even if it is completely illogical. As always, any scene with these two actors is beautiful. I hope Mike O'Malley gets some guest actor awards for this.
Cafeteria. Mercedes has a plate with a tiny tomato wedge, a single piece of lettuce, and about two tablespoons of cottage cheese in front of her. Tina offers her half of a Peppermint Patty, which she rejects, and Artie asks her why she's starving herself, since her friends like her "no matter how [she] looks." Mercedes snaps, and barks at them for not understanding how much she's sacrificing to finally fit in at the school. Suddenly, she looks at Tina and sees her as an ice cream cone. And then Artie is a huge piece of cake (with chocolate frosting). Mercedes tells them to shut up. "And I'm really hungry, so stop trying to get me to eat you!" Artie: "Hold up. Did she just say she wanted to eat us?" Then Rachel and Jesse walk by, dressed as a pink cupcake and a hamburger. (Rachel is lecturing Jesse on the iconic nature of the role of Fanny Brice.) And then Mercedes faints. And I have to say, the show missed a golden opportunity to pay homage to one of the biggest stars of the last thirty years by not having these kids sing "Eat It," by Mr. Weird Al Yankovic. As I said in the forums, I demand that they write an episode using only his songs. (As the recapper, I'm fairly certain they have to do what I say. Santana will back me up on that.) Commercials.
Nurse's office. Look, Maharishi Figgins hired an actual competent nurse. How did that happen? He must be so shaken by this blackmail that he's forgetting to be his usual insane self. I know this nurse is competent because she realizes that Mercedes fainted due to her low blood pressure. The nurse leaves to get some ginger ale for Mercedes, and we see that Quinn is also in the nurse's office. For, let's say, some kind of pregnancy-related thing that is completely not worth mentioning. Quinn offers Mercedes a granola bar, and calls Mercedes on her bull when she claims not to be hungry. You see, Quinn used to starve herself, but she's realized that if she's willing to eat healthy for her baby's sake, why wasn't she willing to do it for her own sake? Mercedes starts to cry, because this obsession over weight and food is not who she is and not who she wants to be. Quinn reminds her that she's beautiful. I'm glad Quinn got some lines -- all that standing in corners and staring at people was making me worried she was a ghost.
Roller rink. The Glee kids are skating, but not really rehearsing. Because they're in the roller rink while it's open and other music is playing. Will is so stupid to have ever thought this would work as a rehearsal space. He acknowledges as much, telling April that "this" is not going to work out. She proposes they get together for a movie and a snuggle, and he also tells her he doesn't think they should make a habit of spending the night together. As always, Will knows exactly what April should do, even though he has no idea how to run his own life. He tells her that she'll always be unhappy until she finds an abode of her own. Instead of punching him in the jaw with her cute little fist, she actually accepts this advice, telling him, "Tonight, I'm going to go over to Buddy's and tell him we're through. If he still had the powers of speech, I'm sure he'd be thankful." She also tells us that the roller rink (which is named Rinky Dinks) loses $8,000 a night. Holy crap! How much does she pay that band?
Hallway. Kurt walks up to Finn's locker and tells him that he's decided they need to break their parents up. Finn noticed how miserable Kurt was when he started talk sports with Finn. Aw, our little dolt has emotional intelligence. How sweet. Finn doesn't like that his mother is moving on from his father, since he sees it as his filial duty to keep his father's memory alive. They agree to emulate Haley Mills and Lindsay Lohan in reverse and break their parents up.
What is Finn's clever scheme to get his mother to dump Burt? He takes his dad's ashes and threatens to flush them down the toilet, since that's what Carol is doing to his memory by dating someone else. She takes the urn and puts it in his dad's recliner, which is just so creepy. She says they should sit and watch TV as a family, pretending like they have for the last 15 years. She talks to the ashes and asks them if they want to watch the basketball game that's on TV. Finn tells his mom she's crazy, and she tells him he's selfish. She likes Burt, and she hasn't liked a guy like this since her husband died. Finn thinks their family is fine, and he doesn't want it to change. She thinks he's okay with it only because he doesn't know anything else. Then she sits on the arm of the recliner and tells Finn (with tears in her eyes) that she actually does talk to the ashes every night. She takes the urn to bed and talks about all the things she would talk about with a husband who was alive. And the ashes never have one single thing to say back to her. Finn tells her that his father wouldn't want her to move on, or move in with someone else, if Finn wasn't ready. Carol: "You didn't know him, Finn." She refuses to give in to her son's emotional blackmail, and tells him that she loves him but that they need to move on. Again, great, great work in this scene. (Also, remember how I said I had been in the same emotional space as Finn and Finn's mother? My partner died 16 years ago and I'm still wearing my metaphorical denim vest. So I have not one damn snarky thing to say about this scene.) Commercials.
Pep rally. Didn't they just have one of those last week? Sue is sitting with Tracy Pendergrass, the reporter from Splits magazine. But Tracy's actually a dapper black man, not a woman. Sue, with her insistence on clear demarcations of the boundary between genders, was confused by his name. He notes the high turnout for the pep rally, and she tells him, "On assembly days, I arrange for the rest of the school to be fumigated, leaving the gymnasium as the only place with breathable air." She advises that he start writing down some of her witticisms for his article. He tells her that he's actually a hard-hitting investigative reporter doing a freelance job for the magazine, and he intends to approach his article about her with the same intensity nearly won him a Pulitzer for his piece on high school athletes going pro. Sue is actually a bit rattled. The lights go down and the Cheerios take the floor. All those boy Cheerios we saw last week? They're all gone, except for Kurt. Sue tries to talk up her own genius to Tracy, telling him to prepare himself for the "smoking intro," which she then amends won't happen for a few seconds, to let the tension build. And then build some more, as Mercedes has not made her appearance. And then Mercedes walks out, in her tracksuit pants. She takes the microphone, but instead of singing whatever she was supposed to sing, she starts to talk about how being a Cheerio is supposed to be about winning, but she thinks it should be about something else. She gets people to raise their hands to admit that they feel fat, or ugly, or pimply, or stupid, or just feel like a big old loser. And Mercedes has felt all of those things at one time or another. I swear that Carmen gave this speech on an episode of Popular, but I'll be damned if I'm going to read every recap to find it. (Of course, Carmen addressed most of her speeches to junk food, not assemblies. Maybe I'd remember it if I tried to think about it from the viewpoint of a cupcake.) Anyway, all of this is prelude to Mercedes singing Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful." Before long, the floor of the gym if full of people singing, while the audience in the crowd stands and sways. All except for Sue, who looks terrified. As Mercedes finishes, Tracy tells Sue that they'll finish the interview in her office tomorrow. And Kurt approaches Mercedes and says, "Thank you. I was wrong." Commercials
Sue enters her office to find Tracy already seated in front of her desk. She nervously offers to explain, and he pretty much commands her to have a seat. Sue is freaked out at the idea that someone is giving her orders in her own office, but she does what he asks. Tracy: "Sue, when I met you, I instantly disliked you. You're bossy, insulting, and the fact that twice you called me Rerun makes me think you're a little racist." Oh Sue. This guy is clearly Raj, not Rerun. Tracy planned to write an article exposing Sue. But the fact that she had cheerleaders of every size (although it's actually cheerleaders of only two sizes -- Mercedes and everybody else), talking and singing about being beautiful despite their differences, told him that he was wrong and Sue is clearly a progressive, open-minded cheerleading coach who should inspire the nation. He calls her a "visionary." I think those are psychotic hallucinations, not visions. Sue tells him that she tries to get the girls to recognize that it's what's inside that counts. Before she can talk too much and reveal her own inherent ugliness (internal ugliness, that is), he ends the interview and thanks her for her time. So he attended one pep rally and spoke with Sue for about one minute? Those aren't exactly the kind of reporting skills that will earn you a Pulitzer, Raj.
Casa Hudson. Burt is getting a beer out of the avocado-colored refrigerator when Finn walks into the kitchen and asks him what he's doing there. "Did you already move in?" Burt tells Finn that Carol asked him to come over to have a man-to-man chat with Finn. Is this a chat about sex? Because Finn clearly needs that one. Finn tells Burt that he's got a lot to say, but Burt insists on going first. Burt tells Finn that he understands that Finn is angry: "Your dad is a hero. Not only to the world for what he did in Desert Storm, but he's a hero to you. No way I can fill his shoes." We're all going to agree to look the other way and ignore the fact that Desert Storm was over and done with long before Finn was born. Let's just pretend that Finn's dad died in a desert storm -- that is, a storm in the desert. Flash flood, sandstorm, take your pick. Anyway, Burt loves Carol -- he thinks of her as an angel who woke him up after years of romantic slumber, and he promises to always take care of her. "I can't be your dad, but I will be her hero for as long as she'll take me." Finn takes that in, and it turns out that all he actually had to say to Burt was that there was a game on and he'd enjoy watching it with him. They enter the living room, and Burt goes to sit on the couch. Finn moves the urn from the recliner and tells him he's welcome to sit in that chair if he wants. And then they turn on the game, and Burt talks about how much he hates Duke. While they start to chat, Kurt stands on the other side of the plate glass window, looking into the living room with a solitary tear running down his cheek. Oh Kurt. Joan Crawford would be proud.
Music room. Will is clearly in shock at something April just told him, even though it's clear that she actually didn't tell him anything because she proceeds to tell him (and us) the shocking story. Which is that she went to her strip-mall lover and demanded he ditch his wife and marry her. So the guy had a stroke and died right in front of her. His widow was worried that April would go public with the sordid affair, so she paid her off to the tune of $2 million. "So I'm sobering up and I'm heading to the Broad Way, Will. I haven't had a drink in 45 minutes. I'm gonna take my hush money and I'm gonna mount the first ever all-white production of The Wiz. Also, she used some of her money to write a fat check to Maharishi Figgins, so the auditorium is now named the April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, and the Glee Club has first dibs on using it. Oh, hey, the kids are all there too. Will doesn't know what to say to thank her. Rachel tells him they have it all figured out. Although what they have figured out doesn't actually involve Will saying anything to April. Instead, we cut to the auditorium, where April, dressed in a beautiful white gown and an enormous and quite stunning necklace, with her hair in a perfect updo... aw, crap, let's not pretend this is April. This is just Cheno, looking the way I imagine she does every day as she walks around New York City and runs her errands, coming out to sing us a song. And that song is "[As God is my witness, I will not use that word in this recap]," from The Wiz. Although, in a very nice touch, she's singing into one of the sparkly microphones from Rinky Dinks. You can take the girl out of the cabaret roller rink, but you can't take the cabaret roller rink out of the girl. The kids sing backup. Quinn and Mercedes exchange friendly glances. And Kurt looks completely miserable. And the song ends with a Cheno glory note. See you time, Orangina. Credits.
LTG is a full-time pension lawyer and a part-time owner-operator of a cabaret pool hall. You can reach him at ltg.jon@gmail.com.
We love the show, but boy, it has hit some bad notes. Here's our list of the worst musical moments.
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