Sue Sylvester, having evidently plummeted into an abyss of depression after her nationwide humiliation at the hands of that wretched hag Diane Sawyer, attempts to overdose on an entire jar of Vitamin A gummy tablets, prompting an intervention from Will and Emma, who suggest she sit in on a few glee club sessions in order to regain a sense of purpose in her life, or something like that. Of course, Sue's evident depression and subsequent failed OD are both just part of a dastardly plot on her part to infiltrate New Directions so she might destroy the group from within, primarily by playing upon the children's insecurities to set them at each others' throats. She initially targets Mercedes and Rachel, and at first, everything seems to be going according to plan. Unfortunately, Mercedes and Rachel's ensuing Battle Of The Divas ends up gifting each young lady with a newfound appreciation for the other's talents, so Sue eventually drops the sad-sack routine to inform Will she's taken a part-time position as Aural Intensity's mentor, so the two groups' impending showdown at Regionals promises to be interesting, to say the very least.
Meanwhile, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen has been harboring many, many doubts about the stability of his relationship with Quinn in the wake of last week's mononucleosis-related hijinks, so he brainstorms for a bit and reaches the obvious conclusion that no adolescent female can resist the siren call of the original Biebs himself. To that end, he forms a one-man Justin Bieber tribute band he calls -- wait for it -- "The Justin Bieber Experience" and, within seconds of debuting his new act in the music room, he's got every single one of The Glee Gals pelting him with underwear. Artie, Puck and Gaylord Weiner quickly decide they want in on the action, mainly because their significant others have fallen into a predictable post-Valentine's slump as far as their interest in romance is concerned, and the wild success of the Bieb-tastic quartet soon has the various members of every relevant couple dry-humping each other again just like the Good Lord intended.
Well, except for Puck and Lauren, of course, because Lauren's still playing hard-to-get. She does, however, enlist Puck's aid in helping her overcome an uncharacteristic bit of stage fright before her very first solo glee club performance. Armed with a particularly sage bit of advice from her besotted would-be paramour, Lauren proceeds to unleash an enthusiasm so infectious during her rendition of an early-'80s classic that the number proves to be one of the evening's highlights. Especially when she motorboats Artie.
In other news, the magnificent Santana Lopez exacts yet another portion of her revenge upon Quinn by convincing Sam to break up with her, and Rachel's attempt to stage a comeback backfires when... oh, you're just going to have to wait for the recap for that bit, because there's no way I can explain that particular slice of insanity in five words or less.
Featuring two songs I'll not be linking to in this recaplet because I detest the very idea of the...the...the thing responsible for them, as performed by Lady Lips, Gaylord, Artie, and Puck; "Take Me Or Leave Me" from Rent, as performed by Rachel and Mercedes; "I Know What Boys Like" by The Waitresses, as performed by Lauren, with a crucial assist from a scantily clad Puck; and "Sing" from My Chemical Romance, as performed by an aggressively plaid New Directions, accompanied by an equally aggressively plaid Sue.
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"I actually learned something in my Spanish class today," Will's voiceover informs us as the camera fades up on him obliviously scrawling "Regresar" across the whiteboard in the front of the room while Finn, Puck, and Gaylord Weiner engage themselves in a spirited spitball battle not ten feet behind his back. The naughty boys instantly knock it off with the antic physical activity and adopt beatific expressions of angelic innocence when Mr. Schue turns to face them, of course, but that's not important right now, because attention must instead be paid to Mr. Schue's mind-boggling realization. "Regresar," he reads from the whiteboard with an appropriate and -- dare I say? -- musical trilling of Rs before asking the class, "Who knows what that means?" Nobody knows what that means, of course, so Mr. Schue answers his own question with an overexcited, "To come back!" As Mr. Schue beams at his decidedly uninterested students and launches himself into a mini-lecture none in the audience can hear, Will's voiceover kicks back in to exult, "That's right: I realized the old Will Schuester was back! Glee club's going to Regionals, we got all of Sue's Cheerios money, I'm past Terri, and I'm over Emma!" On cue, everyone's favorite obsessive-compulsive bursts through the classroom door in a wide-eyed tizzy. "It's an emergency!" Emma gasps once she's caught Will's attention, and with that, the two hustle off through the halls towards...
...Sue's office, where Emma breathlessly explains, "Becky Jackson opened Sue's journal and found this!" Emma flips to the appropriate page, which screams, "GOOD BYE CRUEL WORLD." "She could be dead by now!" Emma frets. The camera travels with Will's eyes to take in the scrawled note on the facing page, which reads as follows: "Yes, Losers. I'm committing Sue-icide." Title card.
Sue Sylvester's All-Sport Trophy Emporium. Will and Emma tiptoe through the unlocked front door and, as Imelda is nowhere to be seen, they continue down the main hall to the bedroom, where they find an apparently unconscious Sue lying prone atop her duvet with several large and empty plastic bottles placed artfully around her body. Will immediately starts slapping away at Sue's face while Emma frantically realizes, "She doesn't have a pulse!" "Yeah, I do," Sue smiles, popping open her eyes as she springs up into sitting position, much to the shock and surprise of her would-be rescuers. "I just stopped my own heart," Sue casually explains, attributing that particular skill to her "CIA training" before grumping, "These Gummi vitamins didn't work at all!" For yes, those large and empty plastic bottles placed artfully around Sue's body actually contained nothing more than a few hundred delightfully tasty dietary supplements in a variety of natural colors and flavors. Sue'd been under the misapprehension that, if you take enough Vitamin A, "you drift off into a blissful oblivion." Unfortunately, all she got out of the experience was a flushed face and a sore jaw, thanks to all that chewing.
In any event, Sue heaves a melodramatic sigh and flops back down against her pillows to moan, "I have nothing to live for!" Will, however, is having none of Sue's calculated self-pity, thank you very much, and with his undies by now thoroughly bunched up into a tremendous wad, he peeves, "You brought this upon yourself!" Sue does not deny that, and gifts us all with a mournful recounting of the Cheerios' humiliating misadventures at Regionals (or wherever) a couple of weeks ago until Will loses all patience with her and snaps, "Sue, you are nasty, manipulative, and petty!" Like that's such a bad thing. Sue, bless her, retorts, "You have more grease in your hair than the guy behind Wikileaks!" It's funny because it's true. Will vows not to "play backup" at Sue's "little pity party," and with that, he and Emma flounce from Sue's boudoir. So, this means he'll actually be playing backup at Sue's little pity party before the first commercial break, then? Thought so.
Back at the school, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen greets Quinn in the hallway between classes with a sprightly peck on the cheek and asks, "So, I wanted to confirm our date this Friday at Color Me Mine?" Quinn: "You were serious about that?" Unfortunately, he was, and Quinn's face drops as she realizes tonight's script dictates her boyfriend fall back into his supposedly dweebish ways for the purposes of this evening's festivities. She gamely plasters a false smile on her face, though, and assures him she'll be there should nothing more pressing come up between now and the weekend. With that, she vanishes off towards her class, allowing Sam's voiceover free rein to gift us all with the following bits of insight into his mindset: "Things have been weird since Quinn got mono a couple of weeks ago. Everyone keeps telling me that she must have kissed Finn, but I believe it when she told me what really happened."
Smear to the music room a couple of days ago, where a saintly-looking Quinn insists, "I didn't kiss Finn, Sam -- I saved his life!"
Smear over to a fairly amusing enactment of Quinn's lie. Finn, standing at his kissing booth, pops an enormous gumball into his mouth. Almost immediately, he splutters, gags, and drops backwards in slow motion as some random extra unhinges her lower jaw to let loose with a blood-curdling scream. The Maharishi materializes from out of nowhere to hover above Frankenteen's unconscious form and bellow, "He's not breathing!" at which point selfless Quinn bends down and gently presses her lips against Finn's to suck that damn gumball clear out of his throat. That's talent.
Smear back to the music room, where Lady Lips goofily admits that he, too, almost choked on a gumball once and, off Smearback Quinn's suddenly guilty expression, we...
...smear once more to the present, where Sam's voiceover continues, "I know she's into me, but I just get the feeling I'm losing her." On cue, Finn appears in the hallway to exchange a few Capital-L Looks with Quinn, and as Lady Lips trudges towards them through the sludgy slow motion of self-doubt, his voiceover determines, "I can't let that happen -- Quinn's the best thing that's happened to me since I got to this school." "But how?" Sam's voiceover despairs. Fortunately, at this very moment he happens to pass a locker adorned with a carefully mounted jackalope head, and his voiceover thrills, "Of course! My dad always said there are two ways to get a woman to love you: Take her hunting, and rock and roll!"
"I knew what I had to do," Sam's voiceover confides as the camera leaps with him into the bathroom, where we find Lady Lips carefully combing his luxurious locks forward across his brow. "I mean," Sam's voiceover rhetorically wonders, "who's more rock-and-roll than Justin Bieber?" "Everyone?" the audience automatically answers in unison. "No one!" Sam's voiceover vehemently insists, and it was at this point I was pretty sure this evening's promised Biebermania wouldn't completely suck, because by designating this wide-mouthed moron as the one to sing that unspeakable irritant's praises, The Powers That Be are clearly pissing all over the entire Bieber phenomenon, and that is something I have little choice but to applaud.
"The hair was Step One," Sam's voiceover narrates as the shot cuts from the bathroom to a reception hall, where a series of Mylar balloons spell out "MAZEL TOV" as they float above the heads of some very bored-looking adolescent girls. "Step Two," Sam's voiceover continues, "was booking a couple of bat mitzvah gigs to test how my new one-man band would go over." Lady Lips, now clad in a Bieber-appropriate hoodie, steps up to a microphone with his guitar, introduces himself as -- wait for it -- "The Justin Bieber Experience," and launches himself into a tentative cover of the unbearably monotonous "Baby." The young ladies present ignore him for the first few "notes," choosing instead to futz around with their Androids, until The Power Of The Biebs -- a fearsome force, even by Lady-Lips proxy -- overwhelms their collective sense of good taste, and they rise up as one to rush the stage in a tight, frenzied, mutant knot of grasping claws and near-ultrasonic shrieking that propels Sam backwards over his amp. And as he lies there on his back with that pack of adolescent harpies caterwauling above him while they reach down to pet at his irresistible coif, Sam's voiceover smugs, "Heads up, Quinn Fabray: You're about to be hit head-on with The Full-Blond Bieber!"
"We need to talk!" Rachel frazzles back at McKinley as she chases after Brittany on that outdoor walkway no proper Ohio high school is without. "Why are my legwarmers on your arms?" Brit-Brit is, indeed, sporting a pair of comfy-looking magenta legwarmers on her otherwise bare forearms, and she blithely shrugs by way of response, "I got cold." "But we had a deal!" Rachel whines, and long story short, that deal pretty much amounts to this: As part of Rachel's "career resurgence," she intends to "dominate discussion" by launching "a trend or two." To that end, Rachel gave Brittany half of her allowance to take one of her "signature" looks and make it popular. Brit-Brit dimly remembers that they agreed legwarmers had a better chance of taking off than reindeer sweaters, which is right, but Rachel insists the scheme won't work if Brittany wears those legwarmers "incorrectly." "Can I wear them that way tomorrow?" Brittany asks, explaining, "I wore a tank top today because I thought it was summer -- no one ever taught me to read a calendar." Rachel can't deal with that particular bit of nonsense at the moment, so she hastily agrees with Brittany's proposal, so long as Brittany remembers to announce to all and sundry that she got her legwarmer inspiration from none other than Rachel Berry herself.
Meanwhile, back in the main hall, Sue's on another of her rampages, and after Will stands agape, mutely goggling while Sue flips Single-T Tina into a set of lockers before knocking the books from Lauren Tuna's arms, the camera smears with him over to...
...Emma's office, where he blathers on about idle hands being Satan's playthings, or something, while Emma looks adorably pensive sitting there behind her desk with her little jade turtle brooch and whatnot until Sue enters to borrow one of "Esmé's" rafters so she can hang herself with a jump rope. Will sits Sue down and starts lecturing her on the beauty of life, or some such bullshit, and the upshot of the blithering that follows is this: Emma and Will decide that the best course of action is to have Sue sit in on a number of the glee club's rehearsals until she rediscovers a sense of purpose in her life. Just go with it. To be fair, Sue skillfully directed the dewy-eyed do-gooders' sorely subpar thought processes towards that misguided conclusion by too-casually admitting she felt good about herself for the first time since the Human Cannon debacle when she found herself singing along with Charlene's "I've Never Been To Me" in her Le Car that morning, but still: Just go with it, especially because we've got...
...The Glee Kids to complain about it for us. "This can-not be happening!" Single-T Tina seethes once the camera's settled on her irritated face over in the music room. "It does seem like a terrible idea," Artie agrees, but Mr. Schue will brook no dissent. "It's not up for discussion," he asserts. "Now," he continues, "it's no secret that Coach Sylvester has taken her licks...." Cut to Santana, who rolls her eyes as she unleashes the following gem: "I mean, just...wanky." Mr. Schue doggedly ignores that particular remark in favor of arguing that Coach Sylvester deserves a little sympathy. "All she's ever done is make our lives miserable," Quinn counters. "She got exactly what she deserved," Santana opines. Sue cocks an eyebrow in Santana's direction and rather deliciously states, "You're lucky I left my blowgun at home, Airbags, 'cause I got a clear shot at your nonnies." Surprisingly, this delightful crack does not lead to another round of intense bickering and, after a bit more speechifying from Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester that seems to settle the matter for the time being, everyone sits back so Mr. Schue might segue into the following bit of Regionals-related news: New Directions will be facing both The Dalton Academy Swallows and Westvale High's Aural Intensity at the impending competition, which for the first time is to carry a theme, said theme being "Anthem."
Lady Lips immediately shoots a hand into the air and asks for permission to perform, as he's of the opinion the Bieb-tastic masterpiece he'd lately been perfecting qualifies for Regionals consideration "because it's just hugely emotional and sums up our generation." Quinn and I both strenuously roll our eyes at that asinine assertion, but Mr. Schue cedes the floor anyway, and Lady Lips quickly propels himself into a full-throated, fully choreographed version of that atrocity we heard him warbling earlier. Needless to say, it's dreadful, and in ways that absolutely beggar description, but then again: That's the whole point. And so, as Lady Lips prances around like a gawky little fifteen-year-old incubus sent straight from the flaming pits of Hell to smother us all in our sleep, the noxious Power Of The Biebs overwhelms each and every single Glee Gal until they're practically pelting Lady Lips with their panties. The gentlemen present are, quite naturally, appalled, and none more so than Finn, but their trifling opinions matter not at the moment, for even Sue Sylvester herself is smitten, and when it's all over, she leans forward to peer intently at Lady Lips and murmur, "I gotta get that girl on my Cheerios!" Commercial.
Locker room. Puck, Artie, and Gaylord sneak up behind Lady Lips to announce that they want in on The Justin Bieber Experience, now. Sam's confused, for he knows they did little but mock at him during his performance, but the other three insist Lady Lips expand his one-man tribute band to include them, for they have seen how their significant others fell prey one by one to The Power Of The Biebs, and they'd like in on some of that panty-poofing action, pronto -- especially because their relationships have hit, as Gaylord puts it, "a standard, post-Valentine's-Day lull." As proof of this, we...
....smear over to watch with abject dismay as Single-T Tina completely ignores Gaylord's magnificent abs in favor of playing "Angry Birds" on her Goth-themed iPhone. It's tragic.
"We need a sugary-sweet jolt of The Biebs to get us some action again!" Gaylord bleats once we've smeared back to the present. Lady Lips remembers that Puck is currently unattached, and demands to know what's in it for him. "I'm at the end of my Lauren Zizes rope!" Puck exclaims. "I'll try anything to get in those enormous pants!" Just then, Frankenteen lurches over to wonder what gives, and when he receives the answer, he staggers back a bit, shocked, before recovering his composure to sagely inquire, "You guys do realize that Justin Bieber sucks, right?" Finn Hudson: Voice Of Reason. Did you ever think you'd live to see the day? In any event, Lady Lips gets all aggro on Finn's ass at this and points out that Quinn was certainly into his act, no doubt. Frankenteen scoffs that he'd rather spend his time working on songs that aren't geared towards brainless ten-year-olds, thanks for asking, and once he's lumbered off, Lady Lips agrees to make The Justin Bieber Experience a quartet. After they do something about Puck's hair, of course.
Hall. Rachel's busily adding line items to the surprisingly unfunny To-Do List taped inside her locker when she realizes to her utter horror that every single girl around her is now sporting legwarmers on their arms. "What are you doing?" she hisses at the just-passing Brittany -- who, by the way, has paired her on-trend armwarmers with an equally on-trend Dunaway-style floppy-brim hat, and she looks faaaaaaab-ulous. Anyway, Brit-Brit apologizes to Rachel, noting that the whole armwarmer thing "just sort of caught on," and while she'd of course love to refund Rachel's allowance, she unfortunately already spent it on food for her unemployed uncle's goat. "I mean, sort of," Brittany amends. "The goat just ate the money." Once again, Rachel can't deal with Brittany's brand of nonsense at the moment, so she decides that the only way her cunning plan for total fashion domination will now succeed is if Brittany copies Rachel's entire "sexy schoolgirl-librarian chic" look immediately, and to that end, she sends Brit-Brit off to Kids "R" Us.
Lair Of The Sylvester. As the lady of the office scribbles away in her journal, Sue's voiceover exults, "My lust for life is renewed! I have found myself dropped behind enemy lines, poised to destroy the glee club from within!" Oh, like you didn't see that one coming. Indeed, Sue's voiceover confirms that Will and "his guidance counselor Ginger" played right into her hands by falling for her fake suicide attempt, and she is now in position to "pit the Glee Clubbers against one another, rupturing the group internally until it explodes like a ripe zit." This should go as well as her last nineteen nefarious plots to do away with the glee club, shouldn't it?
In any event, Sue sets her latest plan in motion by consulting -- independent of each other, of course -- both Mercedes and "Rochelle" on the fundamental nature of The Diva. Or something like that. Each young lady has her own opinion on the subject, naturally, with Mercedes counseling Sue to take what amounts to an Aretha approach to the whole thing while Rachel opts for a more Streisand-esque solution for Sue's supposed problem, but the real point of the quickly intercut scenes involved is this: Sue claims each young lady bagged on the other's abilities as a performer, so Mercedes and Rachel immediately fly off their respective handles and confront each other in the hall. The camera spins dizzily around them as they get all up in each others' stuff to exchange increasingly heated accusations, with Mercedes eventually announcing, "There's only one 'I' in 'Diva,' Rachel, and that 'I' is me!" "Guess we're just gonna have to settle this the old-fashioned way," Mercedes sneers. "Diva-off!" Rachel sneers right back at her. "Tomorrow," Mercedes confirms, "glee club." "Why not right now?" Rachel challenges, all head-bops and sass. "Because I have to get my cross-trainers," Mercedes replies. "Wanna know why?" she taunts. "I'm gonna be doin' some runs!" At that, the temporarily warring children split to disappear off opposite sides of the screen, and the camera quickly zooms in on a silently watchful Sue at the far end of the hall to linger on her triumphant smirk for a moment before cutting away to the commercial break.
Music Room. Finn puts some awkward moves on Quinn, who gently rebuffs them, but that's not important right now because what is important right now is the fact that The New And Improved Justin Bieber Experience has arrived to dazzle everyone with their very first Bieb-tabulous performance as a quartet. Each of the gents involved, by the way, has lovingly teased his luxurious locks forward across his brow with the exception of Puck, who's got a miniature Bieber-fringe merkin stapled to the front of his hood. Yes, it is as ludicrous as it sounds, but every single Glee Gal present again seems utterly smitten nevertheless. And with little further ado, the boys hurl themselves into their version of this hot mess, and I really have nothing to say about this particular performance -- which, incidentally, begins in the music room before magically transporting itself over to the McKinley High auditorium -- because I'm pretty sure I got the point the first two times around.
And when it's over, Single-T Tina and Brittany leap onto the stage to sprinkle a little sugar on their menz, while Quinn quietly approaches Finn to confirm that she'll not be stepping out on Lady Lips anytime soon, much to Frankenteen's chagrin. Elsewhere, Puck hops down into the auditorium proper to ask of Lauren Tuna, "So, what'd you think?" "Honestly?" Lauren admits. "Although my love would crush him, I'm totally turned on by the Biebster -- that is, until I remember that he looks like he's twelve, and then it's sorta creepy." Taking all of that into consideration, she grants Puck's performance a disappointing C+. "Listen, Zizes," Puck levels with her, "I'm dying here -- you got me every which way, and we both know I'm not the brightest, so please: What do I have to do to get inside of you?" Or maybe he said "with you" in that last bit. I can't be sure. In any event, Puck's in luck, as Lauren might have a "proposition" for him, but again, he'll have to wait until she gives him the signal.
Back on the stage, Quinn flirtatiously ambles up to Lady Lips to confirm their appointment at Color Me Mine that Friday night. As she exits, Sam allows himself a little fist-pump of triumph, but his joy is short-lived, for barely has Quinn disappeared into the wings when Santana saunters over in full maneater mode to coo, "Sammy Evans! You are Bieb-a-licious!" Lady Lips blatantly ogles her ample cleavage as Santana continues, "How are things going with you and Quinn?" "Fine," Sam insists, and with vast amounts of faux concern flooding her tone, magnificently malicious Santana replies, "No, they're not." Lady Lips is dumbstruck. Well, you know, more than usual. "You and I should talk soon," Santana coyly adds with a saucy little head-tilt thrown in there for good measure, and with that, she slinks off into the shadows, leaving a thoroughly out-classed Lady Lips to flail around helplessly in her splendiferous wake until the camera finally cuts away to the commercial break.
Hall. Quinn expresses her newfound admiration for Sam's shamelessness, or something like that, so Finn gets An Idea. !
Gym. Lauren -- or a reasonable stunt-double facsimile thereof -- tosses one of her fellow wrestlers around like a ragdoll for a bit before sitting on his chest, and what I don't know about wrestling could easily fill several comprehensively stocked bookmobiles, but shouldn't she be sparring with someone in her own weight class? Not that I'm averse to staring at the exceptionally healthy little muffin she's sharing screen time with in this scene, mind you, but still. And when practice is over, Lauren retires to the bleachers, where an openly salivating Puck awaits. "Do dudes ever get erections when they wrestle with you?" he asks, ever the charmer. "Shut it, Puckerman," Lauren does not hesitate to reply, "we're here to talk business." You see, she wants to regale the glee club with a solo, but she needs a bit of advice, as she's rather uncharacteristically nervous about performing in front of the group. Puck's recommended solution? Pretend everybody's sitting there in their underwear. Shockingly enough, Puck cribbing a plot point from a forty-year-old Brady Bunch episode does not sicken and repulse me. Maybe it's because Mark Salling's obviously old enough to remember when it first aired. "Can I touch your knockers now?" Puck delicately inquires. "Only if you wanna lose a hand," Lauren shoots back. "But," she adds with a mischievous grin, "you're on your way." Young love. Sigh.
Music Room. "Remember," Sue grits, hissing into Mercedes's ear, "I want this diva-off to be a bloodbath!" "Oh, trust," Mercedes assures her, "it's about to go down." Meanwhile, Rachel's just now arriving with her fashionable little couture twin, Brittany, the latter of whom has replicated Rachel's signature sexy schoolgirl-librarian chic down to the last itchy detail: Nun-like woolen leggings under a heavy above-the-knee plaid skirt, with the carousel-horse sweater up top accented by a fussy little bow at her neck. "This has to go viral!" Rachel urgently whispers. "Is there any way you can cut class for the rest of the day just so you could walk down the halls?" "Totally!" Brittany enthuses. "Most teachers think by cutting class, I might improve my grades!" So, there's that settled, then. And over in the cheap seats, Single-T Tina's noticed Finn's new Bieber-inflected "style," but as that joke already played itself out many, many minutes ago, we'll be ignoring Frankenteen in favor of listening in as Mr. Schue calls things to order.
On second thought, let's skip right ahead to the much-vaunted Battle Of The Divas, shall we? After an initial bit of trash-talking between the girls, Rachel orders the glee club's house band to hit it, and with that, the ladies plunge into "Take Me Or Leave Me" from Rent, which is a musical I utterly abhor, so imagine my surprise when I found myself grinning like a big ol' hateful idiot once Rachel and Mercedes really started tearing into this number. Both Lea Michele and Amber Riley kill their individual bits dead, of course, but it's really the infectious sense of joy they display while singing with each other that suckered me in against all my better instincts. As far as it relates to the plot, well, you could call it an anthem, I guess, and now that I think about it, I wouldn't mind seeing them turning it into full-blown Regionals performance, but I doubt that's going to happen. The important thing to know is that Rachel and Mercedes end the song with a newfound and genuine appreciation for each other's talents, thereby thwarting Sue's latest nefarious efforts to do away with the glee club for good, much to Sue's vocal irritation. "Where's the hate?" she peeves, leading Will to fart out yet another of his platitudes I'll not be bothering to transcribe.
Will's office, and oh, Lord, I'd deliberately expelled all memory of everything having to do with this treacly, saccharine, bag-of-ass subplot the instant this episode was over, and I have absolutely no desire to revisit one single second of it now. Long story short, Will drags Sue to a pediatric cancer ward -- a pediatric cancer ward filled with actual, honest-to-God pediatric cancer patients -- and I...I just can't. No, seriously: I refuse. Let's all pretend these four endless, godforsaken minutes never happened, shall we? Excellent.
Back amid the McKinley lockers, the camera pulls a loving, lingering pan up Quinn Fabray's brand-new sexy schoolgirl-librarian chic as a similarly attired Santana compliments her with, "Look, Q, I know we've had our differences, but I can't lie: That outfit is amazing on you!" "It looks good on everyone," Quinn graciously allows. "Penny loafers and tights?" she continues. "Genius." "Out-rageous," Santana agrees. "I mean," she adds, gesturing down at her own impeccably turned-out self, "my carousel horse sweater should make me look like an institutionalized toddler, but no! I look hot and smart! I feel like Michelle Obama." "Ohmigod, you guys look amazing!" the just-arriving Single-T Tina raves, positively beaming from ear to ear. She is, of course, sporting her own version of this must-have look, and just as Rachel bounds over from points unknown, Single-T Tina asserts, "She's a genius and an icon!" "Who is?" Rachel too-innocently wonders with a too-bright smile affixed to her face. "Brittany," Quinn replies, as if the answer should be obvious to everyone, "who did you think?" "Who knew that taking off that Cheerios uniform would turn her into a fashion institution?" Santana rhetorically marvels. The smile tightens on Rachel's face until it looks like her skin's going to split straight down the middle to reveal the glowering skull of rage lurking just beneath, and she hisses, "Is this a joke?" "No," Santana replies, gazing with horror upon Rachel's top, "that sweater is." "Who wears a reindeer sweater?" Santana grimaces. "Uh, all three of you!" Rachel retorts. "No, this is a carousel horse," Single-T Tina duhs. "If you want to know what to wear," Quinn sighs, shaking her head slightly at Rachel's abject cluelessness, "just look to Brittany." "She took the look from me!" Rachel insists, sounding increasingly unhinged in the process. "I paid her!" "You're a terrible liar, Rachel," Single-T Tina frowns, deeply disappointed. "I can't believe you would take this away from poor Brittany," Quinn reprovingly chides. "It's sad," Santana emphasizes. "You're just sad." Brilliant. That entire little scene was just brilliant, and bravo to everyone involved.
And it just gets better when Brit-Brit herself wanders in from outdoors. "Hey!" Rachel snarls, powering on over to her. "I want my money back!" "I used it to pay a publicist," Brittany shrugs, absolutely on wrong side of sorry. "Jacob Ben Israel posted a photo," she explains, "and this website called The Sartorialist? Named me 'The Trendiest Girl In America.'" "But I'm trying to stage a comeback!" Rachel all but sobs, her overweening ambition cruelly thwarted yet again. "Okay," Brittany nods, "but what, exactly, are you coming back from?" Point to Brit-Brit. "Listen, Rachel," she continues as Rachel flounders about in front of her, "I'm gonna give you some tough love right now: You're not a trendsetter. When people look at you, they don't see what you're wearing -- they see a cat getting its temperature taken, and then they hear it screaming." Several additional points to Brit-Brit. "I'm really sorry," Brittany concludes, obviously not terribly sorry at all, "but I have to go -- I have an interview with Teen Vogue." Buuuuuuuurn!
Music Room. Mr. Schue stands in front of the class with a tense-looking Lauren, who clearly didn't get the memo regarding sexy schoolgirl-librarian chic, though that, of course, is not what's troubling her at the moment. With great fanfare, Mr. Schue announces that Lauren will be making her glee club solo debut that afternoon, and asks Lauren what she intends to sing. "Here's how I see it," she replies, momentarily conquering her nerves to toss out a bit of her familiar brass, "I know I'm the hottest bitch in this joint, and if I was a country, my flag would be a big fist giving the rest of the world the finger, and this would be my national anthem." Oh, so that's how she's tying it all into this week's theme, huh? Nice try, honey, but no. But perhaps I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. Lauren orders Puck over to his axe, then calls upon Tina and Brittany to perform as her backup dancers. Evidently, this comes as no surprise to any of them, so I guess they extensively rehearsed this routine at some point in the last three minutes or so. Lauren lets out a tiny little high-pitched squeal of anxiety as the others take their places, then she calls out a count, and we're suddenly right in the middle of that early-'80s classic "I Know What Boys Like" by The Waitresses. See what I meant about Lauren's selection not being an anthem at all? Good.
But that doesn't really matter right now, because it's obvious poor Lauren's nearly paralytic with fear as she starts the song, barely swaying from left to right with the beat while keeping her eyes trained on the floor. Fortunately, Puck manages to catch her attention, and he silently wills her to follow his earlier advice. The result? Well, for one thing, we now know what Lauren really thinks about these people, based on the undergarments her mind's eye has picked out for them. Of particular note are the vest Will's sporting with his boxers, the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers tee stretched across Frankenteen's chest, the Star Wars-themed briefs stretched across our dear Mr. Puckerman's ass, and Sue's black, floor-length PVC dominatrix gown, complete with matching cat mask and riding crop. It's all so very disturbing. And funny.
And it works: Visualizing everybody in their scanties frees Lauren from her crippling stage fright, and she immediately starts tossing around an amount of attitude entirely commensurate with the song's, slapping Tina and Brittany on their pert derrieres before shimmying over to the risers to motorboat Artie, who afterwards looks for all the world like he can now die a happy man. And when it's all over, Lauren lets loose with an elated smile as the children crowd around her to hoot and holler their congratulations. "How fricking hot is she?" Puck practically giggles.
Cut to the school's library, where Santana's dragged Lady Lips for that little chat she promised him earlier. "This morning I woke up and decided to swallow the sun," Sam opens, deploying a series of especially low tones. Neither Santana nor I have any idea what the hell he's talking about, so Lady Lips explains, "That's my James Earl Jones impression." "First of all," Santana chides, "that is offensive! He shot Martin Luther King!" Dimwit that he is, Sam fails to register Santana's extreme displeasure and continues with his incomprehensible James Earl Jones impression for a few moments until Santana snaps, "Okay, you know what? Let's just cut to the chase." And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where Santana Lopez blew my frigging mind.
"Despite the fact that your mouth-to-face ratio is, like, way off," she begins, "you still somehow manage to be cute, but make no mistake: Every time you open your humongous mouth to do an impression or moisten an enormous stamp for a lazy giant, you take one step closer to everyone seeing that you are actually a dork, which is where I come in." Lady Lips has been rendered speechless, so Santana continues, "I hereby offer my services as a mistress -- I wantz on them froggy lips, and I wantz on them now!" "But I'm dating Quinn!" the hapless Lady Lips splutters. "And this just in?" Santana retorts. "She cheated on you!" "No, she didn't," Dimwit Sam dimly insists. "Look," Santana interjects, cutting his weak little mewl of protest off at its wee tiny kitty-cat knees, "I know you're as dumb as a bag of wet hair, but you know in your heart she's lying. That gumball story was insane!" "You're choosing to believe it so you can still be with her," she wisely understands, "but consider my offer: Not only am I giving you full visitation rights to the set of rambunctious twins that live on my ribcage, you also get the chance to show that pastry bag Finn that he can't mess with Sam Evans -- and not just because you can unlock your humongous jaw and swallow him whole like a python, but because you have some buzz at this school!"
I'm in love.
"Think about it," the fabulous Santana Lopez shrugs, unfortunately drawing to a close this fabulous episode's most fabulous scene as she rises to exit, leaving mopey little Lady Lips alone to pout and brood his way into this evening's final commercial break.
And as nothing that follows this evening can ever hope to surpass the fabulousness we've just been so privileged to witness, we'll be getting through the remainder of tonight's episode as quickly as possible. So: Sue shows up in Will's office to insist -- correctly, I should note -- that no one would ever mistake any of the songs offered thus far for an anthem, and insists she be allowed to perform a number of her choosing with the entire ensemble. "What's your song?" Will grins.
"Sing" by My Chemical Romance, as it turns out, and to be honest with you, the indifferently choreographed and aggressively plaid grungefest that ensues just leaves me cold. Will seems totally into it, though, so there's that, I suppose. I also have no doubt it'll be a big hit with all the kiddies when Glee inevitably schleps it out on tour this summer. And that's all I'm going to say about that.
Hall. Lady Lips breaks up with Quinn, because he's decided to start dating Santana. And who can blame him? !
Music Room. Rachel makes the absolutely ridiculous suggestion that they pen an original anthem of their own for Regionals, and everybody rightly points and laughs at her. Also: Gaylord and I own the exact same shirt. Needless to say, it looks a hell of a lot better on him. !
Once Will dismisses the class, Sue enters, clad once more in her Nancy Reagan-red power tracksuit with the bold white stripes racing down the sides, so we know she's about to stomp all over SpongeHair SquareChin's upbeat mood until it lies broken and bleeding on the linoleum floor. Sure enough, she almost immediately announces she's secured a part-time gig as the new coach for Aural Intensity. "That's impossible!" Will weakly protests. "Nothing's impossible when you have a positive attitude!" Sue grins, brightly adding, "You taught me that!" And as she sweeps on out of there -- of course passively-aggressively switching off the lights as she goes -- Sue all but sings, "See you at Regionals!" !
Hall. Finn approaches Rachel and admits he thinks her absolutely ridiculous suggestion regarding an original anthem for Regionals is actually an excellent idea. Moron. He also insists she's the glee club's "trendsetter" and, as he wanders off, he calls out that he firmly believes the good old "focused" "take-no-prisoners" Rachel of fondly remembered episodes past is "making a comeback." God, I hope so, because the shrill, drippy, lovesick nightmare we've been putting up with for the last year really fucking sucks.
week, the Rachel Berry house party train wreck extravaganza is officially a go, whatever the hell that means. Have fun!
Demian still wouldn't mind seeing Justin Bieber shot out of a cannon. You may once more agree with him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.