It's Still Brittany, Bitch

S04E02

Thank God they decided to kick the plot in the ass tonight, because after last week's snoozefest, I was ready to give up on this goddamned show, too.

In Lima: Brittany S. Pierce finds herself thrown off The Cheerios when Coach Sylvester finally comes down on her -- hard -- for the negative grade point average that Coach Sylvester would have noticed sooner had she not been so busy being so improbably knocked up. This of course sends Our Brittany into a tailspin that closely parallels Other Britney's precipitous downward spiral of several years ago -- Crocs, Cheetos, unhinged umbrella bashings, and all -- that culminates in a disastrous lip-synch performance at this year's inaugural McKinley High pep rally.

However, just when we think the other children are gonna slap a 5150 on Our Brittany's addled derriere, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen gets Brit-Brit to admit it was all simply a cunning ruse on her part. You see, Our Brittany knows from Other Britney's example that a trip to rock bottom all but ensures a staggeringly triumphant comeback, so she concocted the entire fake nervous breakdown in order to further her not-so-secret plan for high school domination. It made a surprising amount of sense as the episode aired, though I'm not certain it'll hold up at all on rewatch.

In New York City: Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima take out a lease on a capacious loft in Bushwick, whereupon they quickly settle down to braid each other's hair and talk about boys. Once that's over with, St. Gay reveals that Drunk Kate Hudson's got one hell of a batshit-crazy past, wherein the lady in question scored the choice role of Lola in a revival of Damn Yankees ten years ago, only to lose the part after she lost her shit over some geriatric's bleeping cell phone during an out-of-town tryout.

Armed with this choice piece of information, Rachel tries to thrown down with the elderly lush, only to find herself thrown out of dance class. Oops! Eventually, though, the two women arrive at some sort of a temporary truce, allowing Rachel to retire to her capacious loft just in time for Dean Geyer to arrive bearing both a lovely housewarming gift and several amorous intentions. Unfortunately, because Rachel's still hung up on that pasty mouthbreather she used to date in Ohio, she sends Australian Idol on his exceptionally-well-put-together way, which means she never really stopped being Idiot Rachel in the first place, yes?

Meanwhile: New Rachel -- whose sole defining trait thus far seems to be a disturbing penchant for truly awful headgear -- admits her enormous crush on New Puck to Not-So-Unique. Pre-Op Precious attempts to dissuade Shitty Newsboy Cap from pursuing a relationship with the patently faithless New Puck, but Crappy Headband will not be deterred until it's revealed to her that New Puck is actually dating New Quinn. This makes Horrifying Barrette very sad, indeed, but I still don't give a flying rat's ass about the romantic relationships on this show, so whatever.

Featuring a variety of Britney Spears's third-rate throwaways, primarily from the ass end of her career, including "Hold It Against Me," as performed by Our Brittany and The Cheerios; a medley combining "Boys" with a so-called "song" that shall never be acknowledged as such by me, as performed by Speed Racer and Dreamboat Blaine; "Womanizer," as performed by a typically sassy Not-So-Unique with crucial assists from Sugar Motta, Single-T Tina, and Shitty Newsboy Cap; a shockingly engaging rendition of "3," as performed by Single-T Tina, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, and Guy Slowly Being Consumed By His Own Incredibly Gross Hair (Whose Name I Still Cannot Be Bothered To Look Up); a medley of "(You Drive Me) Crazy" and Aerosmith's "Crazy," as sweetly performed by Crappy Headband and New Puck; "Oops!...I Did It Again," as performed by Idiot Rachel, with heavily costumed background gyrations courtesy of an unnecessarily attired Dean Geyer; "Gimme More," as performed by the children of New Directions, with solo duties assumed by Our Brittany and a bag of snacks; and "Everytime," as performed by Horrifying Barrette.

It's 7:59 in the morning deep within the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High, and as the bell for homeroom rings, the camera lands upon the back of one particular blonde Cheerio, watching as the lady in question swans along in slow-motion through teeming clusters of her fellow students, many of whom pause to smile at her. "My name is Brittany S. Pierce," Brit-Brit opens via voiceover before going on to note, "and I finally know how Jesus feels in his house way up at the North Pole, because I am on top of the world." "Senior year was awesome," Brit-Brit continues, "and now, I get to relive every minute of it." Here, the camera jumps around to pan down past her unnaturally dilated pupils as she reminds us -- out loud, and in the middle of the hall -- "I'm head Cheerio, Vice-Rachel of The Glee Club, and I'm planning a Middle East-style sham election that will install me as senior class president for life!" Dreamboat Blaine, clutching an "off-Broadway songbook" tight against his chest while wearing a mightily confused expression on his face, edges up close to her at this point to whisper, "Who are you talking to?" Brittany: "I thought I was doing a voiceover." Heh.

Dreamboat Blaine just nods his head around a little bit at this and continues on his merry way as Brit-Brit deliberately closes her mouth before admitting the following in actual voiceover: "It was kind of a rough summer -- I really miss Santana." Aw. "But for now," she concludes, "all I have to say is..."

"It's Brittany, bitch!" That last was once again spoken out loud, complete with an appropriate ponytail-whipping head toss, and the thing we know, we've been flung out onto the football field, where Our Brittany and her fellow Cheerios hurl themselves into an exceptionally energetic routine based around Other Britney's tiresome 2011 single "Hold It Against Me." Fortunately, Our Brittany's version is mercifully free of the sort of obnoxious product placement that made me despise Other Britney's original video for the song. Unfortunately, the hyperkinetic jump-cuts slamming us from shot to shot during the performance itself prevent me from getting any kind of coherent sense of what they're actually doing, here, so whatever wow factor this number might have had otherwise is lost as a result. At some point, the action gets pimp-slapped indoors to the McKinley High gymnasium, where Our Brittany and her fellow Cheerios are joined by a group of aggressively gelled young gentlemen whose sole purpose seems to be twirling a bunch of deadly-looking shards of metal around in the air, and after the routine has reached its triumphant finale, Coach Sylvester blares through her megaphone, "Well, that was just garbage!" "Garbage wrapped in skin!" Coach Sylvester amends, and oh, my God. I think I've really missed Sue over the summer break.

Coach Sylvester orders Our Brittany to haul her disappointing ass into Sue's office, pronto. Once there, Coach Sylvester announces, "I'm afraid it's time for a little tough love." Coach Sylvester, you see, has gotten her hot little hands on Becky Jackson's most recent Algebra II test, and the "plucky little Ewok waddled her way to a respectable C-plus," despite spelling her name "Bocky" at the top of the answer sheet. Brit-Brit, alas, took the exact same test and somehow managed "to unearth the hitherto undiscovered grade of F-minus." It seems Brittany answered every question with "See Other Side," where she "composed an elaborate crayonscape entitled Happyville: The Town Where Math Was Never Invented." Brit-Brit's masterpiece includes a couple of priceless depictions of Santana and St. Gay Of Lima, but all that's really beside the point at the moment, because Coach Sylvester has decided that Brit-Brit's become a terrible role model for The Cheerios. "Last year, I was lost in a haze of pregnancy hormones," Coach Sylvester admits, "and I allowed your record-breaking GPA to slide," but once the cheerleading squad's collective academic performance plummeted this semester, Coach Sylvester realized she can no longer sit idly by while Brit-Brit blithely leads her fellows down into a howling pit of failing grades and human-squirrel weddings. Therefore, Coach Sylvester is kicking poor little Brit-Brit off the team, effective immediately, while promoting New Quinn to Brittany's former leadership position. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to lose the high pony," Coach Sylvester states, eliciting the following glum-faced response from poor little Brit-Brit: "Tough love feels a lot like mean." Awwwwwwwww. Also: Title card.

Brittany's Boudoir, where we find the dejected lady herself Skyping with her long-distance girlfriend, the latter of whom commiserates over Brit-Brit's abrupt social demotion for a bit before insisting she's got to go, as her practice schedule down in Louisville will continue to be an absolute beast until Homecoming's finally over and done with. Brit-Brit sadly shuts her product-placed laptop and eyes a sympathetic-looking Lord Tubbington, who's lounging on her bed in a sleeveless black-leather motorcycle jacket and a pair of aviators. "I'm not speaking to you," Brit-Brit mopes. "I know you joined a gang." Hee.

Fake Drama School In New York. Drunk Kate Hudson correctly notes that her first-year students must master the tango as part of their "arsenal," and so orders them all to partner up for their first lesson. Unfortunately, the class is short a boy, so one of the ladies will have to sit this one out. Of course, that lady will be the much-abused Rachel, which is fine as far as Drunk Kate Hudson is concerned, because much-abused Rachel lacks "the sex appeal to pull off a credible tango." I'd say the much-abused Rachel actually lacks the height to pull off a credible tango, but what I think about all of this doesn't matter at all, because this scene exists simply to set up Much-Abused Rachel's primary storyline for the evening, so let's hop back over to...

By Demian

...The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High, where poor little Brit-Brit's just now arriving at Miss Pillsbury's office for some apparently much-needed guidance, as super-dejected Brittany is currently sporting the following ensemble, which she plucked from the school's lost and found: An ill-fitting pair of man jeans, a lavender t-shirt that reads "Word's Best Grandma," and a pair of orange Crocs. Ew. Mr. Schue, who's joined Miss Pillsbury for this intervention, expresses his concern for Brittany's well-being, but Brit-Brit insists she's fine, especially now that she's started dipping into Lord Tubbington's stash of feline depression pills. Mr. Schue observes that Brittany might have "underestimated the impact being held back has had" on her, and he suggests she meet daily with Miss Pillsbury for the foreseeable future, but Brit-Brit begs off, as she's been quite busy as of late after school, scarfing down cashews and bacon while enjoying the Lifetime Movie Network's frequent Client List marathons. With that, Brittany floats from the office, narrating her progress down the hallway out loud as she goes. Once she's disappeared, Will and Emma bang their heads together for a bit in search of a cure for Brit-Brit's woes until Emma decides, "We need to bring Brittany back."

Cut to the music room, where a typically over-exuberant Mr. Schue bounds in to announce that The Maharishi has invited New Directions to perform at McKinley's annual back-to-school pep rally. New Rachel and Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Look Up seem particularly enthused to receive this news, but because she's still wearing that godawful newsboy cap, and because he's just fucking disgusting, I'll be ignoring them both for as long as I possibly can in favor of following along as Mr. Schue scrawls the following episode-title-friendly Musical Theme Of The Week upon the whiteboard: "Britney 2.0." "Oh, my God!" Single-T Tina squeals. "Are we doing Britney Week again?" Obviously, you dumbass. Mr. Schue wisely blows past Single-T Tina's idiotic question to pepper Our Brittany -- who's been stuffing her somewhat greasy sans fard face with off-brand Oreos, by the way -- with an encouraging Other Britney-related pep-talk I'll not be bothering to transcribe, after which he reveals that Dreamboat Blaine and Artie have already prepared a little duet to kick off the general festivities.

What follows is an utterly forgettable medley combining "Boys" with a so-called "song" that I will never, ever acknowledge as such, and because the gentlemen's performance has been liberally intercut with a series of utterly unnecessary reaction shots involving New Rachel bopping around in her absolutely hateful newsboy cap, I'll be skipping to the end: "I'm once again inspired by the awesomeness of [Other] Britney," Our Brittany assures the choir room at large. Mr. Schue beams. Shut up, Will.

New York City. Much-Abused Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima cavort upon a pair of bicycles through a fairly capacious Bushwick loft space that St. Gay notes could be theirs for a mere $1800 a month. Much-Abused Rachel frets for a moment or two over the 83rd Precinct's recent crime statistics, but that's not important at the moment because what's actually important at the moment is this: These two morons are moving into my father's old neighborhood. It's bad enough they're going to be whining their collective way through my goddamned borough for the rest of the season, but to have them violate my actual ancestral homeland? Fuck you, Glee.

ANY-way, one quick time-lapsing cross-fade later finds Much-Abused Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima enjoying their first dinner together in their new apartment. "New York Domino's is so much better than Lima Domino's!" Rachel delights. "It's the water," St. Gay confidently notes, and that exchange is way funnier than it has any right to be. They get to chit-chatting about Frankenteen for a bit -- no, St. Gay hasn't heard from his errant stepbrother in a while, in case you were wondering, which you weren't, because no one gives a shit about Frankenteen anymore -- and then St. Gay announces his plans for the couple of months: He'll audition once more for Fake Drama School In New York, of course, with an eye on matriculating for the winter term, but in the meantime, he's applied for a temporary position at Vogue.com. I'd unleash a screaming rant here about the utter improbability of Condé Nast hiring this completely inexperienced dipshit for a paid position at one of its flagship websites, but it'd probably be for the best if I held off on that until after he's actually gotten the job. Which we all know he will, because this show SUCKS.

By Demian

In any event, once all of that's over and done with, Much-Abused Rachel moans about Drunk Kate Hudson and the shabby treatment she's been receiving at the latter's boozy hands since classes began, placing particular emphasis on Drunk Kate Hudson's latest sex-appeal-related slight. "Maybe you shouldn't wear a bra to your class," St. Gay archly suggests. "And take all of the attention away from the Miss Cassie July?" Rachel snorts. "She'd flip!" "Cassie July is your dance teacher?" St. Gay gay-gasps. "As in the Cassie July," he continues, practically hyperventilating, "a.k.a. 'Crazy July,' a.k.a. 'The Biggest Train Wreck In Broadway History'?" "You don't know her story?" St. Gay all but shrieks, aghast. Much-Abused Rachel looks dumb by way of response, so we smear sideways to...

...a suspiciously cinematic YouTube clip entitled "Bat vs. Cell phone" that quickly expands to engulf the entire television screen as St. Gay breathlessly narrates, "Cassie July was the It girl ten years ago -- she scored the coveted role of temptress Lola in a high-profile revival of Damn Yankees!" By this point, they've superimposed St. Gay's intensely gossipy profile over the suspiciously cinematic footage of Drunk Kate Hudson's long-ago performance, and it's a pretty amusing visual, but St. Gay just as quickly disappears so the following might unreel by itself: Drunk Kate Hudson staggers around amid a gaggle of chorus boys for a few bars -- a few bars that most certainly did not originate in the Damn Yankees score -- until some hapless geriatric's cell phone goes off out in the audience. Drunk Kate Hudson promptly calls a halt to the proceedings, insists she will not continue until the hapless geriatric has been forcibly removed from the premises, and snatches up a handy baseball bat to menace the hapless geriatric when the ushers do not respond immediately to her unhinged demands. She scrambles down from the stage, screaming, but alas! Just as things are about to get most awesomely bloody, we smear sideways back to...

At some point, a freshly spurned Single-T Tina joins Not-So-Unique on the vocals, and they proceed to angrily stalk New Puck through the school, sneering with contempt as he casually toys with and discards the affections of various extras, the latter of whom fall in line one by one behind Not-So-Unique until there's a veritable army of pissed-off women stomping after the utterly oblivious New Puck. God help me, but it's pretty cute. Anyway, it all ends up in the gymnasium -- New Puck apparently has a thing for ogling the ladies during their gym class, don't you know -- and at Not-So-Unique's prompting, the various rebuffed handmaids of McKinley High lasso New Puck with a magically-appearing noose, the better to drag his horny ass towards a delightfully gruesome Particicution. Unfortunately, the song cuts off just before the gals start rending the flesh from his bones with their bare hands, so I've got to listen to Boring New Rachel and Her Dire Headband make schmoopy noises in New Puck's general direction until he asks her out on a date. Yawn.

New York City. Dean Geyer, looking lovely in a tight black beater, ostentatiously crunches his abs to that gorgeous fountain in City Hall Park until Much-Abused Rachel wanders up to wonder if he'd partner with her for Drunk Kate Hudson's tango class. Despite some initial misgivings -- Drunk Kate Hudson frowns upon upperclassmen consorting with her freshmen, you see -- Dean Geyer agrees.

Smash to the music room, where Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, Single-T Tina, and Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Look Up perform a shockingly engaging a cappella version of "3" that sounds immeasurably better than Other Britney's appallingly overproduced original of same. And I say "sounds," there, because I can't actually watch their performance, because watching their performance would involve watching Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Look Up sing about having a threeway, and that's a level of horror no human being should be forced to endure.

In any event, at some point during the number, Brit-Brit calmly rises from her place in the cheap seats, crosses to a nearby electrical outlet, plugs in an electric shaver she just happened to be lugging around in her backpack, and makes to shear off her lovely bleach-blonde locks -- much to the very loud dismay of Not-So-Unique, among others. Coach Sylvester has taken away Brit-Brit's high pony, you see, and if Brit-Brit can't have her high pony, Brit-Brit doesn't want to have any hair at all. Awwwwwwwwwwwww. Mr. Schue somehow manages to wrest the shaver from Brittany's hands, so the poor little thing mopes her lonely way out into the hallway, whereupon she's immediately beset by Jewfro[less] and his intrusive microphone, whereupon she immediately retrieves an umbrella from her locker to beat him to death. Atta girl. I still haven't forgiven him for this, so Brittany? Be sure to aim for his crotch. Thanks!

Meanwhile, Artie, Dreamboat Blaine, and Single-T Tina cringe as one in a far corner of the hallway, with Dreamboat Blaine wondering if they should intervene. "Nah," Single-T Tina shrugs after giving the matter very little thought, adding, "He deserves it." Yes, Single-T Tina. Yes, exactly. The three mumble amongst themselves regarding Brit-Brit's downward spiral for a bit, with Artie eventually suggesting they offer Brittany the spotlight during their upcoming pep rally performance, as she likely misses being the center of attention since Coach Sylvester booted her from The Cheerios.

And as the deeply unhinged Brit-Brit continues to pour out her wrath upon the odious Jewfro[less], New Puck rather obnoxiously whizzes past on a Razor scooter until Mr. Schue busts him for violating school policy on... wait a minute. Does Will really not notice the glorious beatdown Brit-Brit's laying on Jewfro[less]'s sick ass not fifteen feet away from the goddamned music room? God, I hate this show. ANY-way, Mr. Schue lectures New Puck about... something I totally don't care about because New Puck thus far is nothing more than an incredibly pale imitation of Old Puck, so I'll be skipping ahead to bit where...

...crap! This scene involves Boring New Puck and His Goddamned Guitar flirting with Boring New Rachel and Her Dire Headband out on the football field's bleachers, and as I have never, ever given a rat's ass about the tedious romantic relationships on this show, and as I especially don't give a rat's ass about the tedious romantic relationship now burgeoning between these two tiresome bits of nothing, I'll be skipping ahead to the number they eventually perform together, which is a stripped-down and surprisingly sweet-sounding medley that combines Other Britney's "(You Drive Me) Crazy" with Aerosmith's "Crazy." And "surprisingly sweet-sounding" is about all I can say regarding this performance, because these two characters are still total blanks at this point. Well, not blanks, exactly -- more like indifferently tacked-together collections of character points and quirks left over from the cast members they fired at the end of last season. I think. And it's a shame, really. They had the opportunity to try something completely different with each of the people they added this year, but they instead decided instead to recycle plotlines like Finn and Sam's stinging poverty and Old Quinn and Old Puck's deep-seated rage and abandonment issues -- plotlines, I should note, that this show already fucked up the first time it ran through them two or three seasons ago -- and so we're left with this crap. You don't get do-overs, Glee. Thank God Our Brittany decided to lose whatever was left of her scattered little mind this week, 'cause if she hadn't, I'd be catatonic with either boredom or fury by this point.

By Demian

So anyway, we're meant to believe that Much-Abused Rachel actually has the choreographic talent to replicate an infamous Bob Fosse routine right there in Fake Drama School's tiny little dance studio, and we're further meant to believe she thought it would be a terrific idea to pair that painstakingly rehearsed recreation with the dreadful "Oops!...I Did It Again." So far, so good. Relatively speaking, of course. The end result is, quite naturally, gruesome, though a large part of me believes that's intentional -- I mean, Rachel's supposed to blow the whole "sexy" thing here, yes? She's supposed to come across as awkward and uncomfortable and desperately uncertain of her own physicality, correct? We can't possibly be expected to think she's better at this sort of thing than, oh, say, all of her backup dancers, right? Right? I'm so confused.

Whatever. The number ends and -- as expected -- Drunk Kate Hudson shimmies her leotard down to her knees, squats, and takes a big, steaming dump all over it. Something in Much-Abused Rachel snaps at Drunk Kate Hudson's (justified) criticisms, and she shrieks, "You're just jealous of me! Of all of us! Because we have our entire careers ahead of us, and yours ended before it even began! We're the future, and you're just some YouTube joke!" Drunk Kate Hudson takes a moment to process Rachel's juvenile tirade, then throws her out of the class, permanently. I think I'm beginning to like Drunk Kate Hudson.

Meanwhile, back at dear old McKinley High, those two boring jocks from last week hurl a few more boring fat jokes at Boring New Rachel's boring lunch-lady mother until Boring New Puck intercedes like the boring young gentleman he's supposed to be, and fisticuffs ensue until Mr. Schue pops up from out of nowhere to tear the slapfight apart and drag Boring New Puck into the music room...

...where they find Old Puck waiting for them! Hooray! Well, sort of. It's a pleasure to see Old Puck and his asinine mohawk again, of course, but a few things bug about the scene that follows: For one thing, the little Forswear Thy Foolish Ways lecture Old Puck proceeds to deliver for New Puck's supposed benefit is dull as hell. For another, the performance styles on display between The Pucks don't match up at all -- Old Puck's playing this as if it were all a part of the show's heightened and cartoonish first seasons while New Puck clearly believes he's been cast in some serious and artful examination of the trials modern American adolescents are forced to endure in their day-to-day lives -- and the result is just jarring and stilted and clumsy and gross. And finally, there's the fact that Mark Salling still can't act. God knows I love him to death, but... yeah.

So, long story short, Old Puck tells New Puck to get his act together -- preferably by joining The Glee Club, of course -- and then Old Puck jets back to L.A. to bang "the third runner-up from The Bachelor." Because he's classy like that. Commercials.

McKinley High Gymnasium. The Maharishi steps up to the microphone to call the annual fall assembly to order, though he of course intends to make an announcement first: "I wish to address the rumor that I like to be milked like a cow because my breasts are filled with delicious, wholesome milk. That rumor is untrue." Good to know. And with that out of the way, it's time for a performance of music to be enjoyed by all.

Unfortunately, things couldn't be worse backstage, where Brittany's descended into a Cheetos-glazed funk from which she's unlikely to emerge. DUN!

Out front, however, The Maharishi remains oblivious to the unfolding Brit-Brit drama, and he proceeds to introduce the children of New Directions. The curtains part, and...

...DISASTER! This disaster, specifically, though Our Brittany does Other Britney one better by incorporating a big bag of snacks into her listless and badly off-tempo routine. Other Britney would have killed for a big bag of snacks on that stage five years ago. Anyway, things start out bad, then quickly go from bad to worse until New Quinn pops up in the bleachers to shoot an accusatory finger down at the generalized mayhem below while screaming, "They're lip-synching!" The other members of the audience rise as one to hiss and boo, leaving The Glee Clubbers with little choice but to abandon their pathetic excuse of a performance long before it's even halfway over, and Dreamboat Blaine and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen rush to shut the curtains as Our Brittany collapses onto a pile of dead Cheetos.

Smash to the music room, where an irate Mr. Schue peeves, "In the fifty-eight-year history of The McKinley High School Glee Club, there has never been such a debacle!" Really, Will? 'Cause I can think of a few. Mainly involving you, of course, but if I really looked into it, I'm sure I could come up with some others, too. In any event, Mr. Schue claims that "lip-synching is the equivalent of blood doping in professional sports" and warns that if The National Show Choir Board Of Review finds out about that afternoon's performance, New Directions could be barred from competing this year. And that's so stupid, I refuse to deal with it until it becomes a major plot point just in time for this year's Sectionals. So, where does that leave us? Oh, yes: When Mr. Schue's blustering has finally run its course, a chastened Brittany announces her resignation from Glee Club, and leaves. The remaining children are fraught with anguish and torment over this depressing turn of events -- with the notable exception of Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, who seems to be getting An Idea.

Fake Drama School In New York, Blotto Dance Division. Drunk Kate Hudson pretends she knows how to dance for a little bit (seriously: Look at those goddamned sloppy feet of hers) until a suitably abashed Rachel enters to apologize for her earlier outburst. While all-too-casually stretching and whatnot, Drunk Kate Hudson lectures Much-Abused Rachel at length regarding the soul-crushing pressure that comes with a fabulous Broadway career and -- after Drunk Kate Hudson pointedly gifts Rachel with a faceful of her sweaty, leotard-clad ass -- Drunk Kate Hudson agrees to allow Rachel back into her dance class. Well, to be precise, Drunk Kate Hudson has to allow Rachel back into her dance class because Fake Drama School rules prevent her from bouncing anyone without an official warning first, but whatever. Long story short, Much-Abused Rachel is on probation, and with probation comes "dance-belt duty," which is exactly what you think it is. And with that, we head into this evening's penultimate commercial break.

McKinley High. The directionally-challenged Brit-Brit -- get it? -- follows a helpful map drawn for her by Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen in order to meet him in the school's auditorium, where Lady Lips quickly reveals he knows what she's really been up to. The downward spiral? The head-shaving incident? Beating Jewfro[less]'s disgusting ass with an umbrella? The disastrous pep rally performance? "You're intentionally hitting rock bottom," he asserts. "So I can make a glorious comeback," Brit-Brit nods, "just like Britney." And just when I'm about to question this supposed "glorious comeback" of Other Britney's, Our Brittany reminds me, "She got paid fourteen million dollars to be on X Factor," and that shuts me right up. Though I still have no problems saying this: Other Britney can rot in hell. Talent-free trash.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: While Our Brittany's happy that Lady Lips eventually figured out her cunning plan, she laments the fact that Santana would have known what she was doing right from the very start. "And then she would have used mean words on anyone who got down on me," Brit-Brit adds. "You miss her, huh?" Lady Lips prompts. "I just miss the little things," Brittany sighs, "like her laugh, and the smell of her armpits." "Yes," she admits, "we had interesting lady-sex, but she was also my best friend." Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Lady Lips assures her she has a new friend now, and then he goes to great lengths to ensure Brit-Brit knows he's talking about himself. Heh. The two end this perfectly sweet little scene by fretting for a little bit Brittany's still-unsolved Cheerios situation, and with that, we head over to...

...Coach Sylvester's office, and I'm not going to bother adequately explaining the edict Brittany issued as president of the senior class that orders Coach Sylvester to reinstate her, because I don't think anyone can adequately explain the edict Brittany issued as president of the senior class that orders Coach Sylvester to reinstate her -- including Brittany herself. "This is clearly the plan of an idiot," Coach Sylvester states, agreeing with me. "But a plan nonetheless," she concedes, adding, "and one that required the barest modicum of human logic which, frankly, I thought was beyond you." As a result, Coach Sylvester agrees to reinstate Brittany, though Brittany must get her grades up in order to graduate by the end of the current school year. Brit-Brit, of course, has already got a plan for that one: Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury have agreed to tutor her once a week, and Brittany's already showing progress, having received a C-minus on her most recent American History exam. Of course, her original grade was another F-minus, but the teacher bumped it up a bit because Brit-Brit completed the test in English, rather than the secret language she invented for herself in middle school. "Welcome back," Coach Sylvester smiles. Brit-Brit beams, and thanks Coach Sylvester in that secret language of hers.

My Ancestral Homeland. Much-Abused Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima chit-chat about Frankenteen while painting their new loft. Fast-forward. Fast-forward. Fast-forward. And...stop! Just as St. Gay decides to duck around to the neighborhood's Italian bakery to fetch them some cake, a certain someone comes a-knocking on their apartment door, and it's Dean Geyer, bearing a pair of massively broad shoulders along with a housewarming gift. St. Gay admirably keeps his eyes focused on their unexpected guest's for the time it takes to make introductions, and then he discreetly scuttles on out of there so Much-Abused Rachel might have a little alone time with her new man. He's such a good little Best Gay, isn't he?

And once the pesky roommate is gone, Dean Geyer bitches about how long it took him to get from Manhattan to Bushwick -- of course -- before presenting Rachel with the housewarming orchid he schlepped all the way out there on the J train. Surprisingly enough, the plant survived the trip, but that's not important right now because what is important right now is the fact that barely has Rachel had a chance to thank him when Dean Geyer moves in for a kiss. Instantly flustered, Rachel gently pushes him away, because she's still hung up on that pasty chunk of talent-free bloat she used to date in high school. Oh, and also because Rachel is still a fucking idiot. To his credit, Dean Geyer immediately retreats, though he does ask her to keep him in mind should her situation ever change with that pasty chunk of talent-free bloat she used to date in high school. You know, more or less. And after he's taken his leave, Idiot Rachel flails around her capacious loft like the fucking dumbass she has always been until we finally fall into this evening's final commercial break.

By Demian

...the music room, where Boring New Rachel and Her Grievous Barrette announce they'd like to perform "one last Britney song." "Did it come out this morning?" Artie loudly wonders. "'Cause we scraped the bottom of that Britney barrel." Preach! Alas, Boring New Rachel and Her Grievous Barrette prove Artie wrong by settling themselves on a stool in front of good ol' Tinkles over there at the baby grand and launching themselves into their rendition of "Everytime." And it's gentle and sweet, of course, but let's face it: Boring New Rachel is no Old Rachel. Not by a long shot. Boring New Rachel's thin little voice is perfectly adequate for Other Britney's brand of disposable Top 40 trash, but can you imagine her conquering anything from The Great American Songbook the way Old Rachel used to do on a regular basis? It's never going to happen. Which depresses me, because it's making me think the decision to cast this voice of hers in the first place is indicative of the direction they intend to take the music on this show from here on out, and I don't think I can deal with episode after episode devoted to karaoke renditions of forgettable crap from whichever boyband the 12-year-olds are screaming about nowadays. Sigh.

So. Where was I? Oh, yeah: As Boring New Rachel sings her boring little heart out in the music room, we cut into an episode-closing montage of tonight's primary characters dealing with the consequences of the evening's events. In Manhattan, Idiot Rachel -- dressed for class even though she's not allowed to participate -- perches alone in a corner of Drunk Kate Hudson's dance studio until Drunk Kate Hudson takes pity on her and sends one of the boys over to ask Rachel to dance. Rachel's mood brightens considerably, and as the kind gentleman eases her onto the dance floor, one thing becomes clear: Idiot Rachel really does lack the height to pull off a credible tango.

Meanwhile, back in Lima, Brit-Brit stares sadly at her product-placed laptop's empty Skype window, because Santana is too busy to call. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

And finally, something happens with Boring New Rachel that I totally don't care about. The end!

week: Sarah Jessica Parker begins her stint as St. Gay's boss at Vogue. Enjoy!

Demian never wants to hear another goddamned Britney Spears song again. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.