"I'm Sick Of Guys Who Ain't Got Their Shit Together."

S03E16

As graduation now looms for a still-confusing number of Glee Clubbers, Will takes it upon himself to start worrying about the future for Frankenteen, Mercedes, and Santana Lopez, none of whom has committed to an acceptable post-high school plan as of yet. Following the sage advice of the freshly-helpful Sue, and with the knowledge that this year's Nationals features a "Vintage" theme, Mr. Schue announces "The First Annual McKinley High Saturday Night Fever Dance Contest." The competition -- whose winner will receive a replica of the iconic white suit Travolta wore, as painstakingly hand-crafted by Miss Becky Jackson -- is officially meant to get the children used to performing songs that have been around for longer than two weeks, even though they used to do shit like that all the time. However, the contest's actual goal is to force Frankenteen, Mercedes, and Santana Lopez to confess their hopes and dreams to their peers through the magic of Disco, like that's really gonna help anyone.

Naturally, complications ensue, as Frankenteen's still wrapped up in all that tiresome marriage bullshit with Idiot Rachel, and Mercedes feels she might not have what it takes to make it in the music business and Santana craves nothing more from life than a celebutard level of fame. But eventually, and with the help of various friends and romantic partners, they all agree to settle themselves down and go to college. Even though Dumbass Finn thinks he's going to matriculate at The Actors Studio, which isn't a school, but whatever. Everybody ends up happy, which I suppose is the only thing that matters.

With the main bulk of the episode divided pretty much evenly amongst those three, there's little room left for other developments, though Glee does somehow manage to mash some in anyway. Puck's already drawn up a business plan for his "Noah's Ark Pool Cleaning Service" out in Los Angeles, St. Gay Of Lima and Mercedes find themselves mentoring a transgendered teen -- yes, you read that right -- from their archrivals over at Carmel High, and somehow, when nobody was looking, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen became the hottest guy on this show. Go figure.

Featuring an expectedly Bee Gees-heavy musical lineup that includes "You Should Be Dancing," as performed by Dreamboat Blaine, Gaylord Wiener, and Brit-Brit; "Night Fever," as performed by the eminent Mr. Schue with an assist from Dreamboat Blaine and New Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Remember; The Trammps' "Disco Inferno," as performed by Mercedes with appropriate backup provided by Santana Lopez and Brittany; Mary Magdalene's "If I Can't Have You," as performed by Santana alone; "How Deep Is Your Love," as performed by Idiot Rachel, with vocal help coming from the usually-mute members of the McKinley High Jazz Ensemble; KC And The Sunshine Band's "Boogie Shoes," as performed by Vocal Adrenaline at their own Regionals competition; "More Than A Woman," as supposedly performed by Frankenteen, even though everyone knows there's no way in hell he can pull off a falsetto like that, with backup from Dreamboat Blaine, St. Gay Of Lima, Brit-Brit, Santana Lopez, Gaylord Wiener, and Single-T Tina; and "Stayin' Alive," as performed by Frankenteen, Mercedes, and Santana, with an eventual assist from nearly every single other goddamned cast member on the show.

Study Hall. A supremely bored-looking Dreamboat Blaine slumps in the front row, clad in a typically asinine Purple Short-Sleeve Button-Down With Gold Bowtie combo, until an ominous thumpa-thumpa only he can hear sets his toes a-tapping. Soon enough, a glittery, whirling disco ball drops down from out of nowhere to spin this portion of the evening's opening scene into clear fantasy territory, and as Dreamboat Blaine slides from his seat to shimmy his oddly-dressed self into the opening lines of The Bee Gees' "You Should Be Dancing," his fellow students quite naturally remain oblivious to the whole thing. With the notable exceptions of Gaylord Wiener and Our Miss Brit-Brit, of course, the latter of whom hop to their feet to join Dreamboat Blaine as he struts this particular head party out into the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High, where the three prance and wiggle and thrust their collective way on down to...

...The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, where the fantasy sequence quickly grounds itself in the reality of an enthusiastic performance staged by the trippy trio for the benefit of their fellow Glee Clubbers. Ad I gotta say, Darren Criss is doing a hell of a job keeping up with Harry Shum and Heather Morris, here. Well, as far as I can tell, given the choppy editing of this dance sequence. I suppose it doesn't really matter though, because Dreamboat Blaine looks super-hot in spite of his ridiculous clothing when he pulls this acrobatic, slow-motion, mid-air split towards the conclusion of the number, and isn't that all that counts in the end?

And when it's over, an applauding Mr. Schue makes his way up to the stage to ask, "What brought this on?" "Well," Dreamboat Blaine explains, "we knew this year's theme for Nationals was 'Vintage,' so we thought we needed something old, but something with a lot of energy, so we thought: Disco!" Mr. Schue is overjoyed, for as you'll no doubt recall, back when he was but a wee Glee Club sprog himself, his McKinley High squad won Nationals with a disco-themed performance, a brief snippet of which we flash back to now. I can't remember if this bit made it into the pilot as aired, but I do know it was in the version of the series premiere that won this show its sole Outstanding Directing Emmy to date, so there you go.

Anyway, at this point Puck pipes up from the cheap seats like so: "Um. There's only one problem with that idea." "And what's that?" Mr. Schue squints. "DISCO SUCKS," the other children howl as one, and I'll let the lovely and talented Pleasesendpants from the forum boards handle this one for me: "Yes, children on this show. Please complain of the horrors of disco. And then do a couple more Lady Gaga numbers." Title card.

"I'm so distracted," Mr. Schue's voiceover confesses, "I can't even stage musical numbers on my scale-model Glee Club diorama." We've arrived in the music room, where Mr. Schue has placed said scale-model Glee Club diorama on the piano and as the various children natter away at each other in the background, Mr. Schue listlessly pushes around some articulated marionettes on his tiny stage while his voiceover continues: "Here we are, weeks away from graduation, and I've got three seniors in trouble." First of those seniors is Frankenteen, who has "all this talent, but no self-esteem" -- or so Mr. Schue's Voiceover would have us believe, despite two and a half years' worth of evidence to the contrary. up is Mercedes, who's "just as talented as Rachel and Kurt, but she doesn't have the vision," which... we'll go with, for now. And finally, Mr. Schue's Voiceover reaches Santana Lopez, who's "got all the ambition, but she doesn't have the focus." As if to prove this, the camera zeroes in on Santana's face as she tells Brittany, "Blaine's handsome brother said it best: College is a waste of time. I just wanna be famous, plain and simple -- don't even care how it happens, I just want everyone to know my name." This statement sets Our Miss Brit-Brit to thinking, which is always a bad sign, but before we get a chance to deal with that, Mr. Schue's Voiceover drags us over to...

...Sue's office and it turns out the voiceover was actually a monologue he'd been delivering to his Glee Club co-coach all along! Clever voiceover. "I feel like I'm out of ideas," Will pouts, and you're just realizing this now, you dipshit? Sue, unsurprisingly enough, agrees with me. "Let's be honest, William," she immediately shoots back at him, "you've been out of ideas since Madonna Week." She suggests he embrace that "lazy, horribly treacly style of teaching" that served him so well in the past and "assign them a famous album." "I did that last year," Will protests. "And your Rumours Week was a resounding success," Sue dryly notes, "in that it seemed to solve everyone's problems for about five minutes." I'd pause to wonder if I'm pissed off that Glee is here deploying a bit of meta-dialogue to mock its own obvious shortcomings -- which is cheap and vaguely insulting -- or if I'm pleased that at least one character on this show agrees with me. But if I did that, I'd miss Sue setting up tonight's musical theme, which she accomplishes like so: "How about the soundtrack that defined a generation? Wait for it -- Saturday Night Fever." "I love that album!" Will gawps before hastily adding, "But there's just one problem: They hate disco." "But they love swag," Sue points out and with that, we smear sideways to a brief montage of various characters offering the hideously greedy children jean jackets and mattresses and dinner for two at BreadstiX before smearing back to the present, where Sue concludes the scene by snarling, "Let's give 'em something to fight over!" Color Will stoked.

Meanwhile, out in the hall, St. Gay Of Lima chit-chats with Mercedes about her college options for a bit until their conversation's interrupted by a party-sized young gentleman sporting an absolutely tragic grey sweater-vest and oh, my holy god, this kid suh-huuuuucks with the acting, so I'm gonna keep this brief: The portly pepperpot is "Wade Adams," portrayed by yet another reject from that reality show I didn't watch and he's a member of Carmel High's Vocal Adrenaline who's come to McKinley to seek out a bit of advice from his two heroes, Mercedes and St. Gay, because Mr. Adams is an extra-special snowflake who feels he can't thrive under the supposedly harsh tutelage of Jesse St. James. After we zip through a delightful and far-too-brief sideways smear of Jesse St. James in action back at Carmel, the three children retire to an unused classroom so we might learn a bit more about this character no one asked for and no one cares about. Long story short, Wade Adams is actually a baby transgender named "Unique," a moniker I choose to believe is deeply ironic, because no honey... you're not. At all. In any event, Unique would like to perform at Vocal Adrenaline's Regionals competition in a dress and heels. Should she do it? St. Gay and Mercedes respond with a shocked and uncomfortable silence.

Music Room. The children stare aghast at the horrific something at their feet and when the camera flips around, we discover that Mr. Schue's magically replaced the room's dreary linoleum tiling with Coach Sylvester's "very own, personal, one-of-a-kind, lit-from-within, shatterproof Plexiglas dance floor modeled, of course, on the dance floor immortalized by a young, musky John Travolta at the height of his potency in the legendary dansical" from which this episode has taken its official name. That especially vivid description of the floor in question came from Coach Sylvester herself, of course, because yeah: There's no way Mr. Schue would ever describe John Travolta as "musky." Actually, there's no way anyone on the planet other than Coach Sylvester would ever describe John Travolta as "musky," and as that particular adjective placed in direct reference to John Travolta is actually making me throw up a little bit in my mouth, I'll cut to the chase, such as it is: Mr. Schue announces this week's previously-discussed musical theme and he and Coach Sylvester reveal that the winner of the opening "dance-off" atop that pricey new floor will receive a replica of Tony Manero's iconic white polyester suit, which Coach Sylvester is having "a cadre of expert Viennese tailors painstakingly reproduce" right this very minute.

By Demian

Smear sideways to Coach Sylvester's cadre of expert Viennese tailors, which is actually just Becky Jackson bopping along to a disco soundtrack as she stitches the replica together in Sue's office -- and no, I don't know whose measurements Becky's using to make the goddamned thing, but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to care, anyway -- and after we smear back to the present, Mr. Schue kicks things off with his appropriately high-pitched rendition of The Bee Gees' "Night Fever," with backup vocals provided by Dreamboat Blaine and New Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Look Up. The song's signature falsetto is like nails in my ears, of course, no matter who's performing it, but the dance-off itself is actually kind of fun, especially when Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen rips open his shirt to unleash a couple of his patented Kentucky Fried Stripper gyrations in the middle of the whole thing. When did he get to be so hot? Sigh. Of course, when Frankenteen lurches center stage for his turn in the spotlight, he's utterly incapable of offering us anything more than a couple of badly off-beat disco-style pointy fingers, but that's to be expected by now, I suppose. At any rate, his terminally ungainly ass quickly vanishes into the back of the pack when Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester lead them all in a sharply-choreographed Hustle to end the awkwardly truncated number.

...Mercedes's Voiceover kicks in to complain, "Where does Mr. Schue get off telling me I don't have a dream?" We've ducked out to the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High, where Mercedes herself moves through the teeming clots of her peers in graceful slow-motion as her voiceover continues, "Just because I don't want to rush off to New York like Berry and star in a revival of Sister Act doesn't mean I don't know what I want to do with my life." Wait a minute: "Revival" of Sister Act? That mess just opened last year. Shut up, Mercedes's Voiceover. Mercedes's Voiceover of course refuses to listen to me and it continues, "I'm sorry, but having a dream isn't the problem -- I have the dream, I just don't know how to get there." "So make no mistake," Mercedes's Voiceover concludes, "Mercedes Jones has desire and ambition so hot, it's a freaking inferno."

Cue the third -- and most conveniently inferno-themed -- song of the evening, "Disco Inferno" by The Trammps, as of course performed by Mercedes, with backup from Santana and Brittany. It begins in another hallway-based fantasy sequence, with the gals grinding along as dozens of their apparently clueless classmates carry on with their boring routines, but the three soon march themselves into the music room to present the bulk of the routine atop the brightly-blinking 2001 Odyssey dance floor and I probably don't have to say this, but Amber Riley kills it. She also looks quite fetching in her '70s-style red dress and her Studio 54 hair with the big gold accessories and such, and she even does a much better job with the choreography than we're used to seeing from her. But those of you who have already watched this episode (in other words, all of you) know she's not going to be winning Number Of The Evening tonight, despite her best efforts. Oh, and it would be remiss of me were I not to note that the camera catches Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen recording the entire routine on his phone, for reasons that will be made apparent towards the close of this evening's presentation.

The gals end their performance with matching sets of utterly inexplicable spirit fingers, and when it's done -- and despite her previously-voiced distaste with Mr. Schue's insulting assignment -- Mercedes obediently follows this week's lesson plan by announcing to all and sundry that her dream is to "inspire people" like "Mariah, Miss Whitney and Miss Aretha" by singing "big, fat, juicy number-one hits." Unfortunately, she admits, she hasn't the first clue how to achieve said dream, as she knows nothing about the music business and she's terrified of moving to Los Angeles and her parents aren't likely to support what they consider to be a bad idea in the first place. Perhaps most cripplingly, though, she's well aware of the fact that while she's "the cream" in tiny little landlocked Lima, her talents might rate her as no better than "skim milk" on the coasts. The other children shift uncomfortably in their seats at this, for they all apparently harbor the same dark doubts about themselves (as well most of them should), with the exception of the ever-loyal Lady Lips, who eyes Mercedes thoughtfully before refocusing his attention on the recording he's just made.

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. Idiot Rachel stares guiltily at Frankenteen from a distance and fast-forward, fast-forward, fast-forward, fast-forward... oh, hello, Puck! Puck stops by Frankenteen's locker to confirm his previously discussed move to Southern California. Frankenteen looks all shifty-eyed and constipated for a moment before admitting that he won't be accompanying Puck to Los Angeles after all, and then they start talking about Frankenteen's nonexistent ambitions and I roll my eyes and fast-forward straight through this evening's commercial break.

Coach Sylvester's Office. The lady of the office -- who's contemplatively rubbing her unlikely pregnancy pooch when first we see her -- has summoned the tense duo of Porcelain and "Weezie" to her lair in order to lambaste these "traitors" for offering succor and comfort to the enemy. Coach Sylvester has "a large portion of the school bugged and wiretapped," you see, and thus overheard their conversation with Not-Terribly-Unique earlier in the week. St. Gay Of Lima hastens to explain the situation and notes that he and Mercedes counseled their rival against wearing that dress and heels to Vocal Adrenaline's Regionals, as both St. Gay and Mercedes agreed "it wasn't a very good idea." "It's not a good idea," Coach Sylvester eyebrows, all quiet cunning and menace, "it's a great idea!" "But this is Ohio!" Mercedes yelps by way of protest. "I don't think many people are gonna be down with that!" "Exactly!" Coach Sylvester emphasizes. "He'll tank them at Regionals," she explains, "and then New Directions will coast to a win at Nationals!" Muah-ha-ha-ha! Coach Sylvester just happens to have a pair of 13 Wide silver lamé pumps at her disposal -- they were autographed by her good friend Janet Reno, natch, who was wearing them the day they caught the Unabomber -- and she would like St. Gay and Mercedes to deliver the shoes "unto Unique." And, Coach Sylvester promises, should the children convince their new friend to "cram his hamhocks" into the fabulous things at Regionals, they and their Glee Club cohort will be well on their collective way to a national championship. Porcelain and Weezie clearly have no option but to agree to the plan, and you know what? I've missed this sly and conniving Sue. Why the hell did she go away in the first place? No, don't bother with a response -- I really don't want to be reminded of the depressing answer.

Cross-fade to the music room, where Santana Lopez is already serenading the other kiddies with her rendition of Mary Magdalene's "If I Can't Have You," and wow. Naya Rivera looks impossibly hot in that halter-topped jumpsuit of hers. Who would have guessed? The performance itself is perfectly competent, though it's marred by that Look Fraught With Significance Frankenteen shoots in Idiot Rachel's direction at one supposedly crucial moment, but when it's over the interfering Mr. Schue proceeds to yank the following bit of deliberately leading stupidity out of his ass: "Incredible, and I can see exactly where you were going with it: This was more than just a beautiful love song to Brittany -- it was also a powerful way to convey your dream that marriage equality will someday be a reality for everyone, and you're off to law school to make it happen! Amazing!" Cram it, you smarmy dicksmack.

To her endless credit, Santana immediately takes great pains to shoot down Mr. Schue's smug little plan for her future, noting that while she's all for marriage equality and whatnot, her true mistress is fame and she reiterates her earlier-voiced intention to pursue that fame at any cost. Mr. Schue begins to chide her for her shallow goals or whatever, but Santana cuts him short with, "Save the lecture for the theater nerds that are gonna starve in New York while desperately trying to tap-dance their way into the chorus of Godspell." "And everyone can stop their hating," she adds, addressing the larger crowd in the room, "because you all want to be famous, too. The only difference," she astutely argues, "is that I am a thousand percent sure that I'm actually going to be famous, just like I'm a thousand percent sure that our man-child piano player keeps a petite Eurasian locked in a trunk underneath his bed." Tinkles almost imperceptibly cocks his head over in his far, dark corner of the music room at this, all "Gurrrrrl!" but Santana pays him no mind, instead choosing to conclude her little monologue like so: "Write this down, because there will be a quiz: I'm gonna be famous, if it's the last thing I do." Alarmingly, this last statement sets Our Miss Brit-Brit to thinking again, but before we can figure out what's she's up to, the camera cuts over to...

...The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, where it finds Idiot Rachel nervously awaiting the arrival of Frankenteen and once he lumbers onto the stage, they hug and make up. As we all knew they would, even though none of us particularly cared to witness it. And the only important bit of the incessant relationship-related blathering that follows is this: Frankenteen took one of those online occupation quizzes and it told him to take a serious look at competitive eating. Hee. Oh, and Idiot Rachel vows to bury her lifelong dream of Broadway stardom in favor of following her stupid useless loser boyfriend around until he figures out what he wants to be when he grows up, because Idiot Rachel is a fucking moron. But I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last bit, because if I take time to process it fully, it'll likely send me into screaming rage from which I'll not soon recover and I'm on a deadline here. So, long story short, Idiot Rachel sits her stupid useless loser boyfriend down on a stool and, with some helpful backing vocals from the usually-mute members of The McKinley High Jazz Ensemble, she proceeds to treat Frankenteen to her version of The Bee Gees' "How Deep Is Your Love." It's as hateful as it sounds, made more so by the fact that they intercut the performance with snippets of a happy-faced Frankenteen chatting with Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury over in the guidance counselor's office, which makes me dread the scene to follow. And sure enough, once Idiot Rachel's done with her indifferent interpretation of the song, we head on over to watch as...

...Miss Pillsbury presents Frankenteen with a thick stack of applications to in-state schools offering athletic scholarships to this year's incoming freshmen. Even though it's mid-April. And even though no school in its right mind would accept this lumbering, blithering dolt on an athletic scholarship anyway, even if we weren't already well past their deadlines for the fall semester. This show. This stupid, stupid, evil show. And after Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schue and Idiot Rachel make supportive noises at him and after he's well out of their collective line of sight, Frankenteen takes that stack of applications and dumps them all in the trash. Whatever.

Meanwhile, over in a far more interesting subplot, Santana Lopez saunters through the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High, a wee bit puzzled by the buzzy attention her simple presence seems to be exciting at the moment, which leads her to wonder, "Why is everyone staring at me like I'm Finn and I just won a butter-eating competition?" Ha! "It's because you're faaaaa-mous!" Our Miss Brit-Brit sing-songs by way of response, going on to explain, "Everybody's loving the sex tape of us I posted on the Internet!" And the name of that sex tape? "Two Girls, One Cat." HA! Our Miss Brit-Brit, you see, took a private sex tape the two ladies made for each other's delectation and "spliced it together with a video of Lord Tubbington performing everyday household chores."

Cut to Lord Tubbington, scrubbing the bathroom floor at Chez Pierce with the help of a sleek little pair of kitten mittens.

"How could you do that?" Santana exasperates once we've returned to the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High. "'Cause you said you wanted to be famous," Brittany shrugs, "so I looked up all the famous people that I knew, and they all have sex tapes, so I put ours out there!" "I'm rilly excited about it!" Brit-Brit chirps before bouncing off towards points unknown, leaving Santana alone to shake her head at her girlfriend's wellspring of dumb for a moment until...

...Lord Tubbington demonstrates his excellent plate-stacking skills right before we head into this evening's commercial break. Hee! He's even got a little feather duster attached to his tail. Though why Lord Tubbington is stacking plates in Will Schuester's kitchen, I'll never know.

And when we return, Mr. Schue drags Frankenteen into a vacant classroom for what is admittedly the central scene of tonight's episode, but as this show beat whatever sympathy I might have had for these characters to death about a year ago, I'm not gonna spend a whole lot of time on it. Basically, Finn's afraid to grow up -- which: get the fuck over it, doll -- so Mr. Schue pops a handy VHS bootleg of Saturday Night Fever into an equally-handy VCR and, after spouting a few more meaningless platitudes, he leaves Finn alone to figure out a Dream For The Future. No, I don't know why dear old McKinley High has random VHS tapes of R-rated movies from the 1970s lying around its classrooms, so don't ask. Though now that I think about it, Frankenteen could score some excellent employment ideas from The Deer Hunter, so if there's a copy of that somewhere...? What's that? There isn't? You sure? Well, shit.

By Demian

Music Room. Frankenteen's there with the once-again-mute members of The McKinley Jazz Ensemble and Idiot Rachel enters and snoooooooooooore. They chat at each other and then Frankenteen launches himself into a preposterous rendition of The Bee Gees' "More Than A Woman" -- preposterous because there's no way in hell that aggravating falsetto is really his -- and the whole thing quickly morphs into a fantasy dance number incorporating all of the other current teenaged couples on the show and while it's certainly nice to see the queer pairings presented as equals to the straight ones, the primary focus remains on Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel and as I believe I've noted many, many times before: I DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM AT ALL.

And when it's over, Frankenteen dismisses the typically-mute members of The McKinley Jazz Ensemble so he can drag Idiot Rachel over to a chair in order to chat at her some more and long story short, Frankenteen's decided to follow Idiot Rachel to New York after all. He's even applied to The Actors Studio and everything, despite the fact that The Actors Studio is not a school, but whatever -- WHATEVER -- and are we done here? Excellent.

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. St. Gay Of Lima and Mercedes process through recent events until Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen approaches to drag Mercedes off to yet another vacant classroom and remember that video he recorded of her "Disco Inferno" performance? He uploaded it to YouTube, as "Mercedes Inferno." Unfortunately, Lady Lips left the comments open. Fortunately, this is a fantasy TV show, so aside from one negative remark left by a gentleman who saw the title and expected something like this, the messages read like a bunch love letters to Miss Jones. A bunch of poorly-spelled and atrociously-articulated love letters, of course, but love letters nonetheless. Needless to say, Mercedes is smitten. "You ain't no skim milk, baby," Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen smiles sweetly, "you're cream rising to the top." Mercedes smiles back at him, they mack their way into this evening's final commercial break and you'll pardon me, I'm sure, but doesn't she still have that other boyfriend to worry about? No, wait a minute -- never mind. I just remembered that I totally don't give a shit.

Lair Of The Sylvester. Santana Lopez, seated to Brittany, squirms uncomfortably in her chair trying and failing to shield herself from the unwavering, laser-like Glare Of Judgment now shooting from Coach Sylvester's eyes. After a few moments of that, Coach Sylvester opens the conversation for which she's summoned Santana like so: "Boobs McGoo, words simply cannot describe how disappointed I am in you." "Look at poor Brittany," Coach Sylvester continues, nodding in Brit-Brit's direction. "Her chagrin is limited only by the fact that she has a brain the size of a toddler's fist." "I can show you the MRI," Brittany solemnly nods and hee! "And it's not just the sex tape," Coach Sylvester insists before observing, apropos of nothing, "My goodness, sex tapes are a dime a dozen these days." "I myself made a sex tape with Oliver North," she overshares, much to Santana's vaguely disturbed consternation. "Wasn't very popular," Coach Sylvester admits, "probably because we released it on Betamax -- I think Cheney still has a copy, though." And with the funny part of this scene thus so entertainingly dispensed with, the ladies get down to the business of wrapping up Santana's storyline for the evening. Long story short, Santana's come to understand the error of her foolish ways and she now wants to attend college. Coach Sylvester's way ahead of her on that one, promptly presenting Santana with an acceptance letter offering her a full ride to the University Of Louisville. "It's in Louisville," Brit-Brit helpfully points out and while that joke landed a lot better the first time they used it, it's still amusing enough to elicit a faint hint of a smile from yours truly. Anyway, Santana makes to offer Coach Sylvester her heartfelt gratitude until Coach Sylvester modestly points out that it's Brittany she should be thanking -- for Brit-Brit, you see, thought up the entire plan all on her own. "She gets an idea once every couple of years," Coach Sylvester smiles, "and lucky for us, this was a good one." The teen lesbians make schmoopy noises at each other and the scene ends with the two of them locked in an embrace while Coach Sylvester gazes on approvingly from the far blurry background of the shot. Awwwwwww.

Music Room. The time has finally -- finally -- arrived to announce the winner of The First Annual McKinley High Saturday Night Fever Dance Contest -- and you can shut up right now, because you know they're gonna be pulling this shit again year -- and surprise! It's all of them. Yep, Santana, Mercedes and Frankenteen each earned a painstaking reproduction of Tony Manero's iconic piece of polyester trash and as the winners enter the music room to model their stylish new threads, Mercedes asks of Frankenteen, "What do you want to do now?" "Strut," Frankenteen replies and with that, they all launch themselves into an episode-ending, three-minute-long cover of The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive," and you'll pardon me for breaking away from the action for yet another moment to ask the following question, I'm sure, but where the hell is Quinn? She's not present for this number and now that I think about it, she wasn't in any of the other ones either. I suppose I shouldn't bother -- I mean, she already got her big episode for the month, and far be it from me to begrudge her a week off, right? -- but still. She's awfully conspicuous now in that temporary wheelchair of hers, which makes her occasional absence all the more noticeable. Well, except for the part where I didn't really miss her until just now. Ooops!

By Demian

ANY-way, Announcer Guy welcomes Vocal Adrenaline to the competition and we have finally arrived at The Number Of The Evening. Not-So-Unique and her colleagues hit the stage to offer us all their version of KC And The Sunshine Band's "Boogie Shoes," and it quickly becomes clear that Coach Sylvester's devious machinations have all been for naught, because Not-So-Unique's performance of the song is simply delightful. Granted, her outfit looks a little draggy, what with the opera-length gloves and the blinged-out, too-short fringy black dress and those enormous silver lamé pumps. Then again, the other Lady Adrenalines look just as cheap and besides, Not-So-Unique's definitely serving up some fierce diva realness on that stage, so you can forget about the judges disqualifying her for inappropriate attire -- they'd simply never realize she's not exactly as she presents herself to be. Jesse St. James makes an ill-advised and ultimately futile attempt to yank Not-So-Unique from the stage, but no one really notices and we head into this evening's commercial break confident in the fact that Not-So-Unique will be making an appearance at this year's Nationals. Whether that future musical performance of hers will top this one of course remains to be seen, but she'll be there. Let's just hope they don't give her any more lines.

By Demian

Anyway, where the hell was I? Oh, yes: They all launch themselves into an episode-ending, three-minute-long cover of The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive," and as I've never been a fan of this song -- I actually can't stand The Brothers Gibb's singing on anything, really -- I'll simply note that everyone seems to be having a terrific amount of fun with it, including Sue and her by-now-blatant pregnancy pooch and I'll leave it at that.

week: The Whitney Houston tribute episode I'm pretty sure she deserves. Have fun!

Demian's awfully glad he won't be covering the Whitney Houston tribute episode. You may congratulate him on his good fortune at demian_twop@yahoo.com.

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