Batshit, Actually

S04E10

In this evening's first Yuletide vignette, a surprisingly pissy Artie bitterly wishes he'd never been crippled in the first place and, after lapsing into unconsciousness thanks to an icy tumble he's taken on an improperly-salted wheelchair ramp, he awakens to find that wish granted through a direct rip-off of It's A Wonderful Life, with last year's Leprechaun returning to assume the role of Clarence, because why the hell not? Of course, in keeping with the film, this magical black-and-white version of a McKinley High in which Artie has always had full use of his legs is quite naturally a foul and wretched (and hilarious) hellscape, so Artie quickly wishes everything back the way it was, and he seems far less angry about his lot in life once he wakes up from his temporary coma.

up is the ever-suffering St. Gay Of Lima, who martyrliciously decides to spend the holiday alone in New York City while Old Idiot Rachel flits off on a gay cruise with her gay dads. Unfortunately for St. Gay's meticulously maintained aura of victimization, Burt Hummel unexpectedly appears on his doorstep in Bushwick. Unfortunately for us, Burt's there primarily to inform St. Gay of his recent prostate cancer diagnosis, and vast and loud is The Anguish Of St. Gay until his father sends him all the hell the way over to Bryant Park, where he finds Dreamboat Blaine waiting for him at the ice rink as a sort of unexpected Christmas present, because why the hell not? The two ex-boyfriends play nice with each other (I think) before retiring back to Brooklyn, where the three gentlemen enjoy a very late holiday dinner.

Meanwhile, over in Ohio, Old Puck convinces New Puck to head out to Los Angeles for Hanukkah Week, and great fun is had by all until Old Puck admits his life out in California pretty much sucks. So, the boys head back to Lima, where they somehow convince their wary mothers to get together as one great big fucked-up extended family for the holiday, because why the hell not? The four do form a tight bond over what a stupendous dick Michael Mancini is during a lengthy meal at BreadstiX, though, so that's nice. Of course, the booze helps.

Also meanwhile, Brit-Brit saw a documentary on The History Channel about The Mayan Apocalypse that's supposed to be happening on December 21st, so she cashes in her life savings to buy fantastic presents for everyone she knows, then marries Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, because why the hell not? Lady Lips is also an Apocalypse acolyte -- naturally -- so the two are quite dismayed when they wake up on December 22nd to find the world intact. Fortunately, their marriage ceremony was a fake concocted by Coach Beiste to prevent them from doing something really stupid, but it looks like poor Brittany's still gonna end up down a couple hundred thousand dollars on the entire escapade.

Finally -- FINALLY -- Coach Sylvester draws Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's mother as part of the faculty's annual Secret Santa nonsense and, after witnessing a touching little scene between the impoverished Roses, Sweet Sue breaks into their home on Christmas Eve to lavish them with cash and presents, because why the hell not?

Featuring "Feliz Navidad," as performed by Artie in Bizarro George Bailey mode; "White Christmas," as performed by St. Gay Of Lima and Dreamboat Blaine, with backup provided by about a hundred random Manhattan extras; "Oh, Hanukkah!" as performed by The Pucks, with a friendly assist from a variety of Hollywood Jews in a variety of inappropriate costumes; "Jingle Bell Rock," as performed Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, with help from a sextet of festively-attired Cheerios; "The First Noël," as performed by Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel; and "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," as performed by nearly everyone.

"Dear Journal," Sue's Voiceover begins as the camera gradually focuses in on a carefully arranged line of festive votives blazing away merrily atop her desk. It hops around to take in the comforting sight of Coach Sylvester herself, happily penning these very words into her diary whilst surrounded by the sparkly seasonal garlands with which she's festooned her office as her voiceover continues, "It's Christmas again -- that time of year when parents aren't arrested for forcing their children to sit on an old man's weirdly hot lap." Sue's Voiceover then proceeds to get all meta on our collective behinds by also calling Christmas "that magical season when five seemingly separate storylines are cleverly sandwiched between commercial breaks and then tied together at the end like a beautiful bow." "Like that movie, Love Actually," Sue's Voiceover decides, adding, "which I don't think anyone really cares for, and yet it is constantly on cable." And as I am one of those people who don't really care for Love Actually, to the point where I've never actually seen it and absolutely never want to, I'll decide not to decide whether Sue's Voiceover is making any sense at all with that assertion, and instead follow along as we leap forward into...

...this evening's title card, whose letters are bedecked with a string of buzzing and blinking Christmas tree lights. Fun!

A set of terribly ominous sleigh bells rattles out what sounds like a jingly dirge on the soundtrack right before the heavily bruised knuckles on Artie's left hand fill the screen, and that spritely dirge continues in the background as the camera cuts to take in Artie's scraped-up and tear-streaked face while he wheels himself over to his locker deep within The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. To be honest with you, the instant I saw that cut on his cheek, I was dead certain it meant Artie would now be getting a Very Special Boollying Episode of his very own, and I was thus all ready to start calling him "St. Cripple Of Lima" from here on out, but it turns out he just took a nasty spill on an indifferently-salted access ramp out by the school's parking lot. Thank God. Frankenteen lumbers up from out of nowhere to wonder what gives and, after Artie's filled him in on the whole humiliating situation, Bloaty The Gravy Clown insists upon escorting poor Artie to the nurse's office.

And when it's over, Lady Lips drops to one knee to propose to Brittany. No, seriously -- he's got a massive engagement ring and everything. I'm sure he had to put in a couple of extra shifts at the Dairy Queen to afford that choice piece of ice, but whatever.

Cut to the boys' locker room. And as several young gentlemen shower in the background, Coach Beiste welcomes the suitably-attired and freshly-affianced couple to the special Mayan wedding ceremony she's arranged for them. Coach Beiste got herself ordained on "a Mayan church website," you see, so she's perfectly qualified to perform the appropriate ritual. In the locker room. With naked teenaged boys showering in the background. Just thought I'd point that fact out again, in case you missed it the first time. She asks the children if they're certain they want to go through with it and, after Brit-Brit and Lady Lips solemnly nod their heads, Coach Beiste has them place their hands on a dusty old manuscript so they might recite their vows, which they of course wrote themselves:

Lady Lips: Brittany, I've always thought you were super-hot and really smart, but what I didn't know was that you were going to end up being my soul mate. Who knows what the future holds for us -- probably tsunamis and horrible sea monsters -- but now I'm not worried about that because I have you.
Brit-Brit: Sam, when you first joined The Glee Club, I didn't notice for a while. It wasn't until you did a Rich Little impression, and then told me it was a Rich Little impression, and explained who Rich Little was that I knew you were special. And I can't tell you how excited I am to become your Mayan Star Wife.

"You may kiss your bride," Coach Beiste smiles once they're done, and I...I...I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me for a moment. I think I have something in my eye.

Sniff. That was beautiful! Dammit -- you'll have to give me another minute, here.

Okay, I'm better. And just in time for an ominous "4 Days Later..." card to overwhelm the screen, too. Hooray! Flash to the newlyweds, happily ensconced in Brittany's Boudoir, as Lady Lips opens his laptop to discover it's December 22nd. "We survived The Apocalypse!" Lady Lips gawps. "We're also married," Brit-Brit reminds him. An absolutely agog Lady Lips dims his way into this evening's commercial break.

Once there, the school nurse dabs at the scrape on Artie's cheek for a bit before announcing he's hit his head pretty hard, and she orders him to lie down while she disappears to phone his mother. Frankenteen kindly offers to help Artie up onto the cot, which leads to an immediate and angry outburst from Artie like so: "I don't want anybody to help me with anything! I'm tired of being so helpless, I'm tired of everybody pitying me, and I'm tired of being in this damn chair!" "Anyone could have fallen on the ice," Bloaty The Gravy Clown weakly offers by way of consolation. "Yeah," Artie bitterly retorts, "but they could have gotten back up instead of laying there, screaming for help, until some freshman girl showed up!" Frankenteen's all, "Please to be stopping with the biting off of my head," and whatnot, and he eventually hoists Artie out of the chair and onto the little examining-room table that's masquerading as a bed for this scene. Utterly defeated, poor Artie rests his weary head against the pillow and sighs, "I just wish I was never in that dumb chair." His eyes flutter shut, and as the camera goes all blurry while drilling in on his now-unconscious face, that spritely little jingly dirge amps up to be joined by a howling unearthly choir as we all get pimp-slapped into...

...a black-and-white It's A Wonderful Life rip-off! Or, you know, "homage." Whatever. It's A Wonderful Artie wakes up, sans glasses and those pesky real-world scrapes and bruises, to discover he's now possessed of two entirely functional legs. Hooray! He's also sporting a McKinley letterman's jacket, so I'm assuming It's A Wonderful Artie is now wowing them all as part of the school's prestigious floor hockey team. Or he's probably a football player. Your choice. In any event, as a set of jolly Christmas Miracle Violins saws away on the soundtrack, It's A Wonderful Artie hops to his feet to stride out into the hallway, where he calls out to Single-T Tina, inviting her to gape in amazement at his newfound mobility. "Can you believe it?" It's A Wonderful Artie smiles. "B-b-b-believe w-w-w-what?" T-T-T-Tina s-s-s-stammers, much to It's A Wonderful Artie's b-b-b-befuddlement. "Why are you stuttering again?" he frowns.

"She never stopped because you never became friends!" a vaguely familiar voice calls out. It's A Wonderful Artie spins around on his freshly-functional heel to find The Leprechaun standing before him, and as The Leprechaun's line readings haven't improved at all since last we saw him, know this: For whatever trauma-related reason, It's A Wonderful Artie's brain decided to summon The Leprechaun to play the role of Clarence this evening, so we've got to put up with him and his awful line readings and his eminently punchable face until the end of this sequence. Sigh.

Anyway, as The Leprechaun guides It's A Wonderful Artie down the hall, he exposits that Real-World Artie's wish has been granted, so there was never any crippling car accident, and there was never any dumb wheelchair, and you can see where this is going, right? Excellent. The first person they meet is Becky, here playing the original movie's Violet Bick, if the original movie's Violet Bick had been a massively knocked-up cheerleader with Pippi Longstocking hair during the original movie's fantasy sequence. "Merry Christmas, stud!" Violet Bicky leers in It's A Wonderful Artie's direction. "Wanna fool around?" she offers, helpfully reminding him, "I can't get pregnant!" It's A Wonderful Artie finds this proposition distasteful in the extreme and, after he's waved Violet Bicky on her way, he turns to The Leprechaun for an explanation. "Becky's the school slut now," The Leprechaun sadly states. "Because I didn't take her on a ridiculously contrived date that one time?" It's A Wonderful Artie more-or-less gasps by way of response. "Yep!" The Leprechaun more-or-less confirms, and with that, they meander a little further down the hallway to find...

...Old Finn, New Finn, Gaylord Wiener, Old Puck and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen slamming the ever-suffering St. Gay Of Lima into a set of lockers. "Didn't we already cover this crap three years ago?" It's A Wonderful Artie demands. Or maybe that was me, and It's A Wonderful Artie instead blurts something about Little Steffi Germanotta that I'm going to ignore until Old Finn, New Finn, Gaylord Wiener, Old Puck and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen threaten him with similarly abusive behavior while vanishing down the hall. Once they're gone, St. Gay Of Lima bemoans The Boollying that prevented him from graduating on time until It's A Wonderful Artie bails on St. Gay's repetitive downer of an ass to demand help from Mr. Schue. One problem: Mr. Schue's blotto, for his failure to relaunch The Glee Club all those many years ago has driven him to drink. Atta boy.

Just then, Terri Schuester bursts into the Spanish room with a baby pressed against her bosom to blast her husband with death rays from her absolutely insane eyes and shout, "I need your paycheck before you blow it all on booze and flannel shirts!" "Sheets 'N' Things is having a big Christmas sale," she whines, "and we desperately need an air purifier for our moldy garbage-heap of an apartment!" "That's a doll!" It's A Wonderful Artie realizes, leading Crazy Terri to clutch the fake baby tighter to her chest while hissing, "Shhhh! He's so drunk, he doesn't know the difference!" Crazy Terri then proceeds to hit on It's A Wonderful Artie, because of course, so It's A Wonderful Artie artfully changes the subject to inquire as to Miss Pillsbury's current whereabouts, and it turns out she's moved to Hawaii with "her husband, Coach Tanaka." "It's a match made in heaven," Crazy Terri breathlessly insists before shooting a sharp-edged, "Right, honey?" at her inebriated lout of a spouse. Mr. Schue blearily agrees while handing over his meager earnings, and as It's A Wonderful Artie beats a hasty retreat from this madness, Crazy Terri nuzzles her imitation infant, and wow: This show made a massive mistake when it wrote out Jessalyn Gilsig, because she is freaking fantastic. Hee!

It's A Wonderful Artie blunders into the school library, where he quite naturally runs into Old Idiot Rachel, who's been here assigned Donna Reed's role from the movie, and their interaction goes just the way it did in the original, right down to Old Idiot Rachel dropping into a dead faint when It's A Wonderful Artie gets all frantic and shouty, and then we somehow end up in...

...the auditorium, where The Leprechaun explains that everything's messed up because Real-World Artie and his squishy legs were "the glue of Glee," and I'm just gonna let that bold and blatantly incorrect assertion stand unchallenged because the recap of this sequence is already about a thousand words too long, and I haven't even hit Quinn's Fucking Wheelchair yet. Yeesh. ANY-way, and long story short: According to The Leprechaun, a Glee Club without Artie was doomed to fail before it ever really blah, blah, yada, so It's A Wonderful Artie decides to fix things now.

Cut to the music room, which has been recast as "Coach Sue's Craft Room," with various members of both The Old and The New New Directions slaving away over row upon row of sewing machines. It's A Wonderful Artie delivers an inspirational speech about The Power Of Song, or some such bullshit, which he follows with a forgettable performance of "Feliz Navidad," and when it's all over, Oafish Jock Asshole Old Finn states, "That was so gay!" Indeed it was, Oafish Jock Asshole Old Finn, though I think you and I mean different things, here.

Thoroughly disheartened, It's A Wonderful Artie slouches out of Coach Sue's Sweatshop to find an empty yet artfully-lit wheelchair loitering at the far end of the hall. "Is that mine?" It's A Wonderful Artie whispers. "No," the suddenly-appearing Leprechaun replies. "It's Quinn's." You see, because Old Quinn "texts and drives in every timeline" -- which is hilarious for reasons I'm at a loss to explain -- she still ended up maimed even though there was no idiotic teenage wedding to attend, only in this timeline, she eventually succumbed to her injuries. It's A Wonderful Artie frowns, crosses to Quinn's Fucking Wheelchair to remove the single white rose that's appeared on its seat, and selflessly plants himself firmly within the chair's tight confines to...

...bolt himself awake in the real world! Wow, what a relief. I mean, Jesus -- that sequence was starting to drag, wasn't it? In any event, Artie glances around to find faithful Frankenteen still there with him in the nurse's office, and Bloaty The Gravy Clown eagerly hops to it when Artie asks for assistance getting back in his chair. Frankenteen offers a few words of friendly commiseration, to which the freshly serene Artie replies, "For better or worse, this chair is part of me -- it's made me who I am." And with that, Artie taps a suspiciously handy bell on the nurse's Christmas tree, because every time a bell rings, Glee drops another point in the demo. Or something like that.

After the commercial break, we return to find Old Idiot Rachel tossing a few of her delicate underthings into a bag over in her capacious and improbable bohemian loft, all the while babbling, "Well, if you're not gonna come to Lima, then my dads insist you come with us to the Rosie O'Donnell Gay Holiday Cruise -- it's gonna be so much fun! There's even gonna be a Jesse Tyler Ferguson lookalike contest!" I'll give that one a pass, hon, but thanks for asking. And could you do me a favor? Yeah, go ahead and slap yourself repeatedly in the face for wearing a skort in the middle of winter. Actually, you can go ahead and slap yourself repeatedly in the face for wearing a skort, period, okay?

The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway ignores me, likely because The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway wasn't talking to me in the first place. No, she was actually addressing her remarks to the ever-suffering St. Gay Of Lima, who's decided to spend Christmas alone in New York City for some martyrlicious and self-dramatizing reason, I'm sure. St. Gay, by the way, is once again sporting several thousand dollars' worth of clothing from Alexander McQueen and Vivienne Westwood, which I can only assume he stole from Mode before he quit. And before I get a chance to linger too long on that, a mysterious certain someone comes a-rapping at the apartment's door, and it's... Congressman Burt Hummel! Bearing heaps of Christmas cheer! And a tree! And an unfortunately timed cancer diagnosis! And whoops! SPOILER!

Needless to say, both St. Gay Of Lima and The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway are delighted to welcome Congressman Hummel into their humble abode, and moments later, the three of them are setting up Burt's tree in an appropriately picturesque corner of the improbable loft. Congressman Hummel then shares a touching story regarding St. Gay's dead mother that I'll not be bothering to transcribe, mainly because it exists simply as a device to get the massively self-absorbed St. Gay to finally -- finally -- notice the open box of Hummel family heirloom ornaments that's been sitting right in front of his goddamned face for what has to have been the last half hour at least, and after everyone waxes appropriately nostalgic for a moment or two, Old Idiot Rachel rises to dash off to her gay cruise with her gay dads. Before she leaves, though, she must first open the present Congressman Hummel now offers her, and it's a glittery apple ornament to mark the kids' first holiday season in New York together. Awwwwwww.

Sometime later, Kurt and Burt stroll up Sixth Avenue, having just attended this year's Christmas Spectacular in Radio City Music Hall, and they eventually retire to an awfully familiar-looking diner for some hot cocoa and bad news: Congressman Hummel has prostate cancer. Burt hastens to add, though, that the disease was caught early, and that "the cure rate's nearly a hundred percent." Which means there's absolutely a hundred percent chance Burt'll wind up at death's door just in time for Sweeps. Consider yourselves forewarned.

In any event, the ever-suffering St. Gay Of Lima absorbs this news stoically, by which I mean he starts shrieking dramatically right there in the middle of the diner until he's overcome by regret and tears, and once we're done with that, we head back over to...

...Bushwick, where Die Hummelmänner have decided to spend the rest of Christmas Eve listening to smooth jazz. In keeping with long-established Hummel family tradition, they also exchange one gift each. Burt dips his hand into the bag offered by his son and finds a baseball cap and t-shirt emblazoned with Fake Drama School In New York's logo. Which is awfully fucking cheap of St. Gay, don't you think? I mean, if he can steal several thousand dollars' worth of clothes for himself from his former place of employment, you'd think he'd be able to swipe something appropriate for his dying father, too. Ungrateful little shit.

ANY-way, Congressman Hummel's gift for his son is a crumpled-up piece of loose-leaf, so maybe crappy gifts are a Hummel family tradition? Oh, sorry! Sorry -- my bad. Burt's real present is actually "too big to put under the tree," so he's jotted down some helpful coordinates on that crumpled-up piece of loose-leaf. "You can pick it up at that address," Congressman Hummel notes, adding with a too-casual shrug of the shoulders, "And, you know, if you don't like it, you can return it." Intrigued, St. Gay Of Lima races for...

...the nearest subway station because his goddamned gift is waiting for him all the hell the way over at the ice rink in Bryant Park, for Christ's sake, which is at least an hour away from the improbable loft. Thanks for nothing, Burt.

All is forgiven, though -- at least as far as I'm concerned -- when Dreamboat Blaine skates over to the side of the rink with a filthy-sounding "Package for Kurt Hummel!" and a merry smile on his face. Naturally, awkwardness ensues between the two ex-boyfriends for a minute or two, but eventually, Dreamboat Blaine coaxes St. Gay Of Lima onto the ice so they might indulge in their own long-standing holiday tradition by singing "White Christmas" together. And the subsequent duet is not very good, mainly because someone made the extremely regrettable decision to have Chris Colfer perform his entire part in falsetto, which: No, and never again, so I'll be skipping ahead to the bit where they come off the ice just in time to listen as the Midtown bells chime midnight. And as they hug and assure each other they'll always be friends, or whatever, a sneaky Congressman Hummel tippy-toes up behind them to smile benevolently in the background right before we head into this evening's commercial break.

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. We've backtracked a couple of weeks from the timeline of the segment, by the way, the better to allow most of what follows to transpire during Hanukkah, and the action opens with New Puck getting into yet another ridiculous fight with his nemeses on the football team. This time around, however, it's Old Puck who comes running to his rescue because, as we presently learn, he's back in town "scoping out some chicks, doing a little research" for his -- wait for it -- screenplay. "You're a screenwriter now?" New Puck eyebrows, as skeptical of this development as everyone in the audience. "In L.A.," Old Puck explains, "you're nobody unless you're in the movie business." "I'm almost done with my first script," he adds, all nonchalant. "It's sci-fi, but it has a high school element." "That sounds really cool, actually," New Puck enthuses, and no, New Puck, it doesn't. It really, really doesn't. Anyway, Old Puck goes on to admit he also came back to check on New Puck, as he's been worried about the kid lately for whatever reason, and he invites New Puck out to California to celebrate the holiday in true Puckerman style. "All you need is some cash for gas and burritos," Old Puck notes, adding, "My hog has a sweet sidecar." New Puck's all, "You expect me to ride all the way out to the West Coast in a frigging sidecar?" and Old Puck's all, "Yep!" so of course the thing we know...

...The Pucks are pulling up to that famous gate in front of Paramount Studios in Los Angeles, with New Puck scrunched into the rickety-looking sidecar attached to Old Puck's motorcycle. It's awfully cute, actually, but that's really neither here nor there at the moment, as Old Puck's managed to secure a pass for the two of them thanks to his adept handling of "the sweater puppies of one of the assistants of one of the guys who produces one of the NCISes," and he intends to show his little bro a good time while they're on the backlot. Well, actually, he intends to deploy his little bro as a singing partner in order to snag some attention for himself and his supposedly burgeoning film career, but New Puck apparently doesn't realize this, because New Puck's apparently an idiot.

Old Puck swipes a couple of handy guitars that have been left most fortuitously unattended, and within seconds, The Two Pucks are serenading the various shady denizens of Paramount Studios with their rendition of this Hanukkah classic, and it is absolutely asinine. Fun, sure, but asinine nevertheless. At one point, the two are mobbed by a crowd of studio executives and extras -- the latter dressed, of course, as showgirls, nuns, angels, aliens and mobsters -- who proceed to dance a riotous Hora around the boys in the middle of the lot's noted New York Street, until The Pucks eventually shimmy their collective way back through the gate and into a tattoo parlor, where the boys get celebratory Stars Of David inked onto their shoulders to commemorate their little cross-country adventure. Ooops. Then again: Moo shu pork on Simchat Torah. I'm thinking the ban on tattoos isn't really high on either Puck's list of priorities.

And when it's over, The Pucks retire to Old Puck's palatial mansion to sun themselves by the pool. Of course, Old Puck doesn't actually live there, as New Puck discovers when the home's real owner returns unexpectedly from a trip to Hawaii to kick both of the boys off her property. "Dude," New Puck dudes, deeply disappointed, "why did you lie to me?" "I didn't think you'd be impressed by my apartment in The Valley filled with Ikea furniture I never figured out how to put together," Old Puck replies, and he's probably got a point, there. Old Puck admits he's a "lonely" "mess" out in California, and bemoans the fact that "it's impossible to meet people 'cause you spend the whole day in your car." New Puck takes pity on his loser of an older half-brother, and invites him back to celebrate what's left of the holiday in Ohio. "If I go back, my mom's gonna make me go to BreadstiX for dinner on Christmas Day," Old Puck warns. "Cool!" New Puck unexpectedly replies. "I'll go, too, and I'll invite my mom!" Awkward!

Cut to Christmas Day dinner at BreadstiX, with the awkwardness already in progress. New Puck's mom is being played by Aisha Tyler, by the way, whom I pretty much fell in love with back when she was hosting Talk Soup, so I am thoroughly on board with this particular casting decision. Not that you care, but there you go.

In any event, The Puckermoms silently side-eye each other while sucking down various smart cocktails until Old Puckermom finally ingests enough courage to snarl, "I saw you once, you know -- I came into that diner you were working at after he told me about you, and you waited on me, acting like you had no idea who I was." "He never told me he was married!" New Puckermom shoots back, rolling her eyes. "Is that how you make yourself feel better?" Old Puckermom spits, and the two Puckerladies are about to throw down right there in the middle of BreadstiX when Old Puck -- who seriously looks older than Aisha Tyler in this scene -- intervenes to remind The Puckermoms that Evil Michael Mancini bailed on both of them. "All of us," New Puck corrects before arguing, quite simply and quite sincerely, "We're a family -- a pretty messed-up one, but still a family." There's a silent beat in which everyone glances at everybody else until Old Puckermom's brittle façade finally cracks, and she admits, "Your father really was an [asshole]." "An epic [asshole]," New Puckermom agrees, reaching for another glass of wine. Atta girl. Generalized giggling ensues until Old Puck proposes a toast: "To new traditions, and to an epic [asshole] who did one thing right -- he brought us together." Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww! The Puckerpeople clink glasses, and this heartwarming scene ends with Old Puck wishing New Puck a "Merry Hanukkah, dude!" "Right back atcha, bro!" New Puck twinkles, and with that, we head into this evening's commercial break.

Goddamn. This episode feels like it's been airing for the last five frigging years already.

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. Once again, we've backtracked on the timeline for reasons which shall soon become apparent. Brittany, sporting a jaunty little Santa hat and toting a large sack full of presents, rounds the far corner and bounces on up to Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel. "Hi, Marley!" Brit-Brit beams, pushing a present into Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's clammy mitts. "Here's a Rolex -- Merry Christmas!" Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel gapes. Shut up, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel. By the way, the Rolex website discreetly declines to quote prices for its products -- the sordid topic of coin, and all that -- but the timepiece Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's now holding in her dumb little hands is worth at least $25,000. Keep that in mind when we hit this evening's segment.

Anywho, the chipper Brit-Brit accosts New Finn, presenting him with "a three-week vacation to Saint-Tropez" before breezing further down the hall to give Single-T Tina the keys to a 2013 Toyota Camry. "What are you doing?" Single-T Tina squints, and here we go: "Well," Brit-Brit explains, "last week I decided to watch a documentary about The Mayan Apocalypse, which arrives on December 21st, 2012, so I decided to cash in all my savings so my friends and I can enjoy what's left of our lives to the fullest!" Makes sense to me.

It also makes sense to Brittany's newest paramour, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, who excitedly drags Brit-Brit into a nearby vacant classroom to present her with the following facts: "Two thousand twelve is the year that Kim Il-sung, founder of North Korea, would have turned a hundred. Divide a hundred by ten -- the percentage of Americans that think the world will end on the 21st of December -- and you get ten: Mexico's rank in the world as a tourist destination -- whose president expects The Mayan Apocalypse to attract fifty-two million people to his country!" "It's all right there!" Lady Lips insists, adding, "All anyone has to do is look at the numbers!" Consider Brittany's mind officially blown, y'all. "I'm terrified," she breathes. Lady Lips admits to just a tiny hint of fear himself, but points out that they must "purify" themselves before the baktun begins. "We need to tell everyone we know how we really feel about them," dear little Brit-Brit quite earnestly decides. And so, the bleach-blond Wonder Twins zip up to...

...the school library, where they welcome New Puck, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, New Finn, Single-T Tina, and Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Still Can't Be Bothered To Look Up to, as Brittany puts it, "the first meeting of The 2012 Mayan Apocalypse Club." "It's also the last meeting," Lady Lips helpfully notes. Single-T Tina shoots him A Look before refocusing her attention on Brit-Brit, the latter of whom states, "Because we're all so close, [Lady Lips] and I wanted to bring you here so we could finally tell you our true feelings about you." At that, Brit-Brit turns to Single-T Tina to offer her the following from a place of love and acceptance: "Acting is a pipe dream for you, and your decision to pursue it as a career is both irresponsible and shocking." Hee. , Brittany addresses Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Still Can't Be Bothered To Look Up like so: "You haven't really made much of an impression on me and I don't really know what your deal is." That makes two of us. "This is the worst club ever," New Finn protests. "We're not just gonna sit here and let you insult us," Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel agrees, rising to leave. "I wasn't going to insult you!" Brittany calls out after her. "All I wanted to tell you is I think you're delightful!" She had me, and then she lost me. "You can't leave yet!" Lady Lips cries. "You're gonna miss the best part!" But alas! The others have already disappeared into the hallway, leaving Lady Lips alone with Brit-Brit to pout, "I can't believe how naive they are." "I know," Brit-Brit sighs, adding, "Some people just can't face the cold hard fact that this earth is really just the back of a giant crocodile that's destroyed and recreated every five hundred years." "At least we have each other," Lady Lips notes, "and since the world is gonna end before Christmas...."

Cue the band. And the festively-adorned sextet of scantily-clad Reindeer Cheerios who now materialize in the library doorway to offer their prancing assistance as Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen swings into his version of "Jingle Bell Rock," which is not a song I'm particularly fond of, but at least he didn't decide to do this. And no, I wouldn't click on that link if I were you. To this number's credit, though, it's awfully fun to watch, and everyone involved is exceptionally enthusiastic about the whole thing, so maybe I should keep my bitchy mouth shut.

By Demian

Teachers' Lounge. Sue enters to find Coach Beiste devouring an entire chicken, and wonders what gives with the sudden fluster of activity around them. "Secret Santa," Coach Beiste slurs through a delicious-looking mouthful of poultry, and Sue thus has little choice but to draw a name from the hat that's now making the rounds. "Who the hell's 'Millie Rose'?" Sue wonders. Why, it's Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's mother, of course! Who'd have guessed it? Besides everyone, of course.

Cut to Sue's office. Coach Sylvester herself is offering a thoroughly unpregnant Becky her choice of expensive holiday gifts, but Becky's having none of it. "EPIC FAIL!" Becky screams. "I already got these, Coach! Gimme something I don't already have!" "Like what?" Coach Sylvester bites. "Like a hot date!" Becky petulantly howls. "Or a snowmobile!" Coach Sue sighs that Becky's not the only person she's got to shop for this year, describing her totally unforeseen Secret Santa pick in the most vivid of terms before musing, "What do you get the woman who's eaten everything?"

Cafeteria Kitchen. Coach Sylvester just happens to be ambling past the kitchen's open doors when Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel and her mother get into a very loud discussion about Christmas and how they're too poor to have one this year because Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel has "an" "eating" "disorder," so whatever cash they can manage to scrape together will have to go towards Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's stupid boring new idiot psychiatry bills. "I don't make a lot of money," Mama Rose unnecessarily reminds her daughter. "Good thing Brittany just gave me this $25,000 watch, then!" Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel does not reply. Nor does Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel proceed to wonder, "Think we'd get a good price for it at the official Rolex retailer down in Dayton, or should take it to a jeweler in Chicago?" And why does Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel do neither of these things? Because Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel is a moron, and this show blows.

ANY-way, Mama Rose insists that all she needs from Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel this Christmas is a song, so Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel gifts her with an a cappella version of "The First Noël." Meanwhile, out in the hall, suddenly smitten Coach Sylvester gets this hysterical "Oh, CRAP!" look on her face and exits stage right.

Area Formerly Known As The Music Room. While various Cheerios perfect various routines on the floor and risers behind her, Coach Sylvester gazes ruefully at her magnificent holiday tree -- it's a 7000-year-old bristlecone pine she chopped down with her own two hands, don't you know -- and decides to sell it to a gentleman of her acquaintance with "contacts in the luxury toothpick market" so she might donate the proceeds to "a very important cause."

Cut to Chez Rose, Christmas morning. As Sweet Sue and her little holiday elf Becky peer entirely unnoticed through the living room windows, Mama Rose and Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel awake to discover a fully-decorated tree with dozens of presents set up in their parlor. Best of all, there's eight hundred dollars in cash tucked away in one of the ornaments, which sends Mama Rose into paroxysms of joy, mainly because she still doesn't know her moron of a daughter is sitting on a goddamned $25,000 watch. And as Mama Rose hugs her stupid boring idiot moron of a daughter close to her ample bosom, we head into what I sincerely hope is the final commercial break of the evening.

BreadstiX, Christmas evening. The Puckermoms continue to bond over their mutual loathing of Evil Michael Mancini while The Puckersons chit-chat with each other over at the bar, and the upshot of it all is that Old Puck's decided to move back to Lima. Hooray!

Meanwhile, over at another table, Coach Beiste has just informed Brittany and Lady Lips that they're not really married, much to the latter's visible dismay and/or relief. It's hard to tell with those two. "The Mayans were wiped out five hundred years ago by the conquistadores and smallpox," Coach Beiste patiently explains. "There are no Mayan church websites." Coach Beiste then admits that when she heard Brit-Brit and Lady Lips got engaged, she realized the last thing anyone needed was another pair of teenaged idiots vowing to be with each other until the end of time on this show, so she faked the ceremony to save us from their own worst instincts. God love you, Coach Beiste. And your sassy new 'do.

Meanwhile, over in Brooklyn, there's a bit of business involving the Boston Celtics and an issue of Vogue magazine, and then Dreamboat Blaine announces he's thinking of applying to Fake Drama School In New York, and really? They're going to be stupid about college application deadlines AGAIN? After we screamed and yelled about how fucked it all was last year? GOD, I hate this show.

Also meanwhile, back in Sue's office, Mama Rose enters and smiles, "I wanted to say thank you for what you did for Marley and me." "I have no idea what you're talking about," Sue immediately replies. "I had nothing to do with the making of that film." With the entertaining portion of this scene thus complete, Mama Rose announces she'd like to return Sue's $800. Not because her stupid boring idiot moron of a daughter finally told her about the goddamned $25,000 watch she's been sitting on for the last fucking week, mind you, but because she's got her pride, or some such equally rancid pile of blockheaded bullshit. Sue, however, insists Mama Rose take the money and leave, and it looks like the discussion is over until Mama Rose hesitantly asks, "Would you come with me?" "[My stupid boring idiot moron of a daughter] wanted to say thank you, too," Mama Rose explains. "Does this involve The Glee Club singing a Christmas song in the auditorium with snow falling on an elaborate winter scene?" Sue asks. Mama Rose is all, "Uh...maybe?" Sue's Face: "Oh, CRAP!"

The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Artie, Single-T Tina, Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Really Should Know Right Now Because Brittany Just Said It A Couple Of Scenes Ago, New Quinn, and New Finn have joined Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel and Bloaty The Gravy Clown on the stage to perform this evening's final number amid a small copse of fake Christmas trees. As Coach Sylvester and Mama Rose take their seats out in the audience, the children begin their rendition of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" unaccompanied, with Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel taking the lead, and just as the band kicks in, the action jumps over to...

...BreadstiX, where The Puckersons serenade The Puckermoms with a couple of lines before joining Lady Lips and Brit-Brit over by the restaurant's tree to entertain the crowd at large, and in a cleansing burst of synchronicity...

...Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay Of Lima just happen to be singing the very same song all the way over in Brooklyn! I know! The camera lingers for a couple of vile moments on the repugnant vegan meal they've prepared for poor dying Burt's last Christmas dinner on earth before heading back to...

...the school, where fake snow has begun to fall on the stage, thanks to the cheerful efforts of Becky up in the flies. From here, we keep hopping from established location to established location until the song reaches its mellow conclusion, and as Coach Sylvester smiles in spite of herself, we finally cut to black.

By Demian