In Ohio: Nerves remain somewhat frazzled after The Incident, and as a result, tempers quickly rise when the children dare to disagree with Mr. Schue's fusty strategy for Regionals, with several of the kiddies complaining quite loudly about Mr. Schue's abusive treatment of Old Finn not too many weeks ago for good measure. At Coach Beiste's suggestion, Mr. Schue travels to The University Of Lima to make amends with the freshly-enrolled Frankendrunk, only to find Bloaty The Cocaine Clown wallowing in booze-soaked debauchery with a there-for-the-hell-of-it Old Puck, so he stomps off in a self-righteous snit. The two eventually agree to forget the late unpleasantness between them, because of course they do, and with that finally out of the way, Mr. Schue, Old Finn, and The New New Directions refocus their energies on their impending competition.
In New York: Idina Menzel materializes to offer Old Idiot Rachel a few sage words of advice just prior to the latter's audition for the nonexistent revival of Funny Girl, and wouldn't you know it? The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway does so well, she earns herself a callback. St. Gay Of Lima is practically paralytic with joy.
Meanwhile: Black Sue returns from Ryan Murphy's other show to assume control of The Cheerios in White Sue's (temporary) absence, MIT aggressively pursues Brit-Brit because of her outstanding SAT scores, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen develops a split personality, Single-T Tina does for Steampunk what she did for Goth, and Dreamboat Blaine knows who really shot up the school last week.
Featuring Emeli Sandé's "To Me," as performed by Idina Menzel and The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway; "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)" by The Beastie Boys, as performed by Frankendrunk and Old Puck; "You Have More Friends Than You Know" from Mervyn Warren and Jeff Marx, as performed by Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, Dreamboat Blaine, Not-So-Unique, and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen; Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" -- again -- as performed by Old Idiot Rachel, with imaginary backup provided by The Famous Original Glee Gang; some piece of written-for-the-episode crap about rainbows, as performed by the overly earnest kiddies of The New New Directions.
Oh, Lord. It's never a good sign when the opening scene makes me want to ram shards of broken glass into my eyes. Therefore, in order to avoid any unnecessary injuries to myself, I'm going to keep my description of said scene as brief as possible: Somehow, Frankendrunk managed to matriculate at the heretofore unheard-of University Of Lima over the course of the last week or so, and he is now pursuing his long-standing dream of becoming an educator. Unfortunately, his fellow undergraduates tend to burst into unwatchable recreations of every horrible "Harlem Shake" video you've ever seen in your life at the most inopportune of moments, so it doesn't look like Bloaty The Cocaine Clown's going to be getting very much studying done anytime soon. Not that he's particularly worried about that, however -- turns out Old Puck's managed to boot Old Finn's roommate from the dorm, and the two will now be bunking with each other for the rest of the semester, so wooooooo! Par-taaaaaaay! The thirtysomething nineteen-year-olds chest-bump each other right into this evening's title card.
My Ancestral Homeland. Old Idiot Rachel stands alone in The Improbably Bohemian Loft, silently striking glamorous poses in front of a mirror while her exceptionally chatty voiceover monologues at length regarding the role Barbra Streisand has played in her life thus far. Old Idiot Rachel's Voiceover also reminds us of her impending open-call audition for the first Broadway revival of Funny Girl since the original production closed in 1967 and, after taking a swipe at Lauren Ambrose, Old Idiot Rachel's Voiceover walks us through her never-before-seen collection of rare Barbra-related ephemera, which includes "a feather from Hello Dolly, a yarmulke from Yentl, a boxing glove from The Main Event," and framed portraits of La Streisand's various husbands and paramours, including one of Canadian prime minister Pierre Trudeau. "But I'm not just approaching this audition as a fangirl," Old Idiot Rachel's Voiceover insists. "I'm approaching this as a professional who has sworn off men and rededicated herself to The Art Of Being Barbra." "Yes," Old Idiot Rachel's Voiceover admits, "it's a longshot -- Fanny Brice is the King Lear of musical theater roles, and I'm just an unknown Jewish girl from Ohio who came of age in a high school glee club -- but then I remind myself that Barbra, too, was once an unknown Jewish girl who sang in her high school choir, and Funny Girl made her a star!" By now, Actual Old Idiot Rachel has donned a familiar-looking leopard-print coat -- paired, of course, with a matching hat -- and she plants herself once more in front of the mirror to coo, "Hello, gorgeous!" Yeah. Barbra did it better.
McKinley High Teachers' Lounge. Will and Beiste sit at a table, sipping coffee and devouring an entire pie, respectively, as Black Sue blows in to exposit as follows: "Excuse my jet lag -- I'm fresh off a plane from North Korea, where I've been training their swim team with my assistant, Dennis Rodman. I've taken over The Cheerios from that phantom menace, Sue Sylvester -- someone with talent had to! -- and did I also mention that I'm in talks with Miss Oprah Winfrey to launch my very own Cheerios network? Like George Jefferson, I'm movin' on up!" Got all that? Good. Once she's done thus explaining her presence in this episode, Black Sue thinks to ask of Will, "How is your delicate group of weirdoes? Are they still rattled by that fake school shooting?" "That was a terrifying experience for those kids!" Will huffily sniffs, all outraged at Black Sue's dismissive demeanor and such. "And the adults," Beiste hastens to add. "I'm still having nightmares!" she claims. "Honey, please!" Black Sue retorts. "I'm a child of the ghetto -- I can't sleep at night unless I hear at least two gunshots!" And as I can't even begin to deal with so much concentrated stupidity in one place at the moment, I'll simply wave bye-bye for now as Black Sue sweeps grandly from the frame, and turn my focus back onto Will and The Beiste instead.
Or not, mainly because the first words out of Beiste's mouth have to do with that asinine feud that cropped up between Will and Frankendrunk a few weeks ago. Heedless of my distaste for the storyline, Beiste plows ahead with a plea for Will to patch things up with his former student lest the squirrels escape, or the grizzlies start scrapping in the Arctic, or whatever, and after she's imparted her words of questionable wisdom, Beiste exits to let Will stew in a great big puddle of his own dumb.
Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel wanders between the lockers in slow motion, babbling via a voiceover of her very own about a bunch of song lyrics she's been scribbling in a notebook, which of course means we'll be subjected to a series of banal and utterly forgettable "original" "tunes" from the kiddies before the night is over. Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel now fancies herself a singer-songwriter, you see, along the lines of "Joni Mitchell, Norah Jones, and Chrissie Hynde," and no, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel is not at all like any of those women at all, but I suspect I didn't need to point that out to you. In any event, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's adolescent delusions of grandeur don't really much matter at the moment, as Her Voiceover's already segued into a discussion of how The Incident has left her peers rattled and confused, "like they've all got PTSD." Brit-Brit, for example, is "acting weird because MIT found out about her SAT score, and they're pressuring her for early commitment." "They really want me to study string theory," Brittany tells Single-T Tina as Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel approaches the choir room, "but I'm not all that interested in arts and crafts." "Isn't MIT in Europe?" Tina frowns. "That would suck!" Single-T Tina, incidentally, has abandoned the adorable little Mary Quant-inspired vintage-y knockoffs she's been sporting as of late in favor of a look she's quite insistent upon calling "Steampunk," so we all know she's off her frigging rocker as well.
Just then, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen materializes behind Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel to greet her in what I'm guessing is his version of an Australian accent because Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen has developed a split personality since last we saw him because why the hell not? The bespectacled Australian version of Lady Lips is supposedly the American version's identical twin brother, "Evan Evans," and Australian Evan is constantly slipping away in the most blatant manner imaginable to trade places with American Sam, and you'll forgive me for getting so spoilery so early in the episode, but this twin thing is a gag they run straight into the ground well before the evening's events have run their course, so you'll also forgive me for devoting as little time to it as possible. Thanks!
Anyway, as Australian Evan ducks around a corner to transform into American Sam, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's Voiceover attributes Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen's odd behavior to separation anxiety because Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel is now a renowned psychologist in addition to being an era-defining singer-songwriter. What the fuck ever, Glee. Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel finally passes into the choir room proper, where she finds Not-So-Unique scarfing down birth control pills because Not-So-Unique heard that two hits of Loestrin a day "will turn [her] Bs into Ds in no time," and I suppose I should note that this odd example of modern-day product placement has been brought to you by the good people of Warner Chilcott Pharmaceuticals, Inc. Try some of their easy-to-swallow delayed-release mesalamine tablets for your moderately active ulcerative colitis today!
And after a bit more business involving The Two Faces Of Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's Voiceover expresses her wish to have one of her original songs performed in competition, and I think this is the longest I've listened to her dreary, drippy ass in months. Fortunately, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's Voiceover finally shuts up at this point because Mr. Schue's just now arrived from points elsewhere with news of this year's Regionals theme. "Sweaters?" Brit-Brit guesses. "Dreams," Mr. Schue scrawls on the whiteboard. "So close," Brittany sighs. Mr. Schue does his level best to ignore her, and instead notes, "As you know, some of the past judges we've had haven't been that bright -- or that sober -- so our best bet is to take this 'Dream' theme literally." To that end, he proposes they open with "Dream Weaver," follow that up with one of the many songs entitled "Sweet Dreams," and end it all with yet another version of "You Make My Dreams Come True."
Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel screws up her courage and asks if they might instead try a series of original songs, as they've done in the past. Mr. Schue quickly shoots that idea down, and when Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel foolishly presses the issue, Mr. Schue all but bites her tedious little head off, shouting, "Do I have to remind you guys how lucky we are to even be at Regionals? We are there on a technicality, which means there is absolutely no room for even the smallest of mistakes!" Thus so suitably chastened, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel slides her sure-to-be-awful original compositions back into her folder, and pouts her way into this evening's first commercial break.
April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Dreamboat Blaine -- in his role "as honorary Rachel" -- gavels a secret meeting of The Glee Club to order, and long story short, everyone agrees that Mr. Schue's lost his damn mind, and is well on his way to losing them Regionals as well. Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel takes this opportunity to rise from her seat with her folder of sure-to-be-dreadful original compositions and ask, "Can I say something?" "I wrote some songs," she continues, once she's captured everyone's attention. "What if we perform those?" "Please," Pretty Kitty eyerolls, "no one wants to hear a song about a fat mom." "Okay," Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel shrugs, shuffling the pages in her hand, "what about...?" "Or a song about barfing," Kitty interjects. Marley: "But what about...?" Kitty: "Or a song about loving an octoroon!" Hee. And now I actually want to hear those three songs. God knows they can't be any worse than the ones they end up performing tonight.
Anyway, Dreamboat Blaine announces that they'll brainstorm an alternate set list and present it to Mr. Schue, and with that, we zip on over to...
...The University Of Lima. Wagner's "Ride Of The Valkyries kicks in on the soundtrack as Old Puck disrobes in slow motion in the middle of a throng of cheering coeds to hurl himself down a slip-and-slide they've set up in the middle of the dorm hall. Meanwhile, Frankendrunk heats up some grilled cheese on an ironing board for the guests of this impromptu campus rager he's decided to throw, then rather creepily demands that two random bleach-blondes surrender their bikini tops as an admission fee. Before we get a chance to dwell on that fresh slice of horror for very long, however, Mr. Schue edges in from the stairwell -- no, I don't know how he gained access to the dorm, so don't bother asking me -- and long story short, he apologizes for the recent kerfuffle. Bloaty The Cocaine Clown tells him to go to Hell. You know, more or less. So, I suppose we'll be dealing with this asinine subplot for a little while longer. Hooray!
Music Room. Mr. Schue arrives from his late disappointment over at The University Of Lima to begin Regionals rehearsals, but before he finishes his introductory spiel, Dreamboat Blaine raises his hand to admit that the kiddies got together and came up with a set list of their own. "Why would you do that?" Mr. Schue snaps. "Oooh!" Not-So-Unique hoots, digging around inside her bra for a cutlet, which she passes to Blaine with a sassy, "You might need some woman parts to sell that!" No, I don't get it, either, but hey: It sounded funny. In any event, there follows another tiresome bit of business involving The Lady Lips Has Two Faces before Mr. Schue completely loses his shit over the children's supposed defiance, yelling at Urethra Franklin to "tone it down with the whole boob thing" and castigating Dreamboat Blaine for the latter's apparent insubordination. The kiddies all get looks on their faces like, "What crawled up your ass and exploded?" but they remain silent as Mr. Schue rants and raves and howls and shrieks until he stomps on out of there is a pissy snit. DUN!
Fake Drama School In New York, Temporarily Sober Dance Division. The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway's commandeered the studio for her last-minute audition prep, and she's about to launch into her version of "Don't Rain On My Parade" when Idina Menzel comes a-wandering into the room. "I always seem to find you at the piano, rehearsing," Idina Menzel smiles. Old Idiot Rachel goes near-ultrasonic with the squealing and such and, after the two have hugged, they catch each other up on recent events in their respective lives. If you must know, Idina Menzel's now living in the city with her adopted daughter, and she's running "this new Broadway daycare business," but she didn't haul her cookies all the way over to Fake Drama School just to chat about her new career. No, she's actually there to offer Old Idiot Rachel a few words of advice regarding her impending audition, starting with this: "They cast Barbra as Fanny because she was one of a kind -- she was an original. If the producers are smart, they're not gonna be looking for some carbon copy. They're gonna want a fresh interpretation -- someone who can put their own stamp on the role." To that end, all of La Streisand's greatest hits are out as potential audition pieces, much to Old Idiot Rachel's predictable disappointment, but fear not! Idina Menzel's brought the sheet music to a little ditty that might just work, and with that, the two launch themselves into a completely unimaginative but excellently sung cover of Emeli Sandé's "To Me." And when the deliriously spinny camerawork is done, Old Idiot Rachel and Idina Menzel hug one more time before vanishing into this evening's commercial break.
University Of Lima. Frankendrunk and Old Puck perform an extra-shouty version of "(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)" by The Beastie Boys at some random frat party, and the best thing I can say about it is this: Thank God I never have to watch that shit again. And when it's over, Bloaty The Cocaine Clown and Old Puck get invited to join the fraternity as full members -- effective immediately and with no pledge period, even though they're "apparently gay" -- because that's just how awesome they are. Supposedly.
April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Not-So-Unique talks about her boobs some more, and there's yet another bit of business involving The Lady Lips Has Two Faces until Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel arrives with Tinkles in tow to present the other kiddies -- Dreamboat Blaine amongst them -- with copies of her latest original composition, which she supposedly wrote right after they all got chewed out by the increasingly unhinged Mr. Schue. The song's actually entitled "You Have More Friends Than You Know," and it was initially created by Grammy-winning composer Mervyn Warren and Tony-winning lyricist Jeff Marx as part of the ongoing It Gets Better Project, just in case you were wondering. I'd be lying if I said I'm a fan of the thing -- it's got its feet firmly planted on the saccharine side of sweet, and it reminds me a hell of a lot of this piece of well-meaning mid-'80s easy-listening fluff -- but everyone involved does a surprisingly fantastic job with it, so I can't really hate it as much as I think I probably should. By the way, in the middle of the performance -- drawn inexplicably, perhaps, by the power of Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen's diamond-cutting nipples -- Mr. Schue wanders into the wings to make a series of sad and wrinkly faces. I'm guessing this means he's sorry he yelled at them all earlier, so...yay? Whatever.
And when it's over, the other children of course congratulate Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel on her mad songwriting skillz, and then it's off to this evening's commercial break.
University Of Lima. Frankendrunk answers his cell to find Old Idiot Rachel on the other end, and after she thanks him for beating up her filthy whore of an ex-boyfriend, she wonders what he thinks she should sing for her Funny Girl audition. Because he's the expert all of a sudden. "Do something that takes you back to the roots of your passion," Bloaty The Cocaine Clown replies. "Make those producers fall in love with you in that moment on the stage," he continues before adding an awfully encouraging, "I know you have it in you." And with her ego thus sufficiently inflated, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway thanks him for his excellent advice, promises to let him know how it goes, and hangs up.
Funny Girl Cattle Call. Amy Aquino and Michael Lerner spend several seconds despising themselves for their recent choices in life before they summon Old Idiot Rachel to the stage. The soundtrack pulls this arty little effects thing wherein the clonking of Rachel's hideously expensive pumps mimics the nervous pounding of her heart, and after she hands her sheet music to the accompanist, Rachel finds her light and introduces herself to this evening's special guest judges. Or, you know, the producers of the revival. Whatever. The pianist gives us a few bars of the familiar "Don't Stop Believin'" introductory vamp, and with little further ado, Rachel launches herself into the song proper. She makes it through a few lines all by herself before conjuring some imaginary backup in the form of The Famous Original Glee Gang in their famous original costumes, and what follows is a close recreation of their famous original performance in the show's pilot episode. It's nice and everything, but let's face it: This was so much better the first time around.
And when it's over, and when Rachel's stress-induced hallucinations have vanished from the stage, frosty Amy Aquino seems ready to dismiss her with nary a second thought. Thank goodness, then, for the especially perceptive Michael Lerner, who leans forward to ask, "Suddenly, something happened to you in the middle of the song -- what was going on, there?" "I was thinking about my friends," Rachel replies, "how I wouldn't be the person I am today, standing in front of you, doing what I'm doing right now, if they hadn't shown me that I could." Everyone takes a moment or two to let that absolutely profound statement sink in, after which Amy Aquino thanks Old Idiot Rachel for her time, and we plunge precipitously into this evening's commercial break.
University Of Lima. Old Puck enters the dorm room he now shares with Frankendrunk, and long story short, Bloaty The Cocaine Clown's already flunking all his classes, which Old Puck finds troubling because the script says he must. The incredibly haggard-looking thirtysomething nineteen-year-olds yammer away at each other for a while, and in the end, they agree to try harder. I think. I mean, I'm pretty sure. Oh, fuck it: Please don't make me watch that again! Please? I'm nearly positive none of it will matter week, and this ridiculous University Of Lima storyline has sucked out loud all night long, so can I just blow it off and move on to the scene? Huh?
The Once And Future Office Of Sue Sylvester. Dreamboat Blaine and Becky Jackson arrive for their first meeting with Black Sue, the latter of whom orders them to sit down so she might speechify at them like so: "It is my understanding that I have inherited you as co-captains of The Cheerios. And by looking at the two of you right now, that makes me extremely suspicious." "Why?" Dreamboat Blaine wonders, playing along. Black Sue promptly pretends to mistake Becky for Coach Sylvester's long-forgotten daughter, and rants at length regarding that for a bit before refocusing her attentions on Dreamboat Blaine. "You're the one that makes me suspicious, Fruity Fonzie," Black Sue insists. "You ain't never done a cheerleading routine in your life, but somehow, you get Sue Sylvester to make you co-captain of The Cheerios, and then three weeks later out of nowhere Sue Sylvester gets fired? That makes me real suspicious." "Please elaborate," I suppose Blaine suggests because he's unfailingly polite like that. "That makes me think," Black Sue obliges, "that you used your handsome fruity voodoo powers and put a hex on her that caused her to bring a gun to school for no reason and get real clumsy so she drops it -- twice -- and it goes off both times. That sounds like some dark-sided fruity-voodoo stuff to me!" "But it didn't really happen!" Becky protests. "Blaine had nothing to do with it!" "How do you know?" Black Sue challenges her. "Were you there?" "No," a suddenly cowed Becky LIES, but something in her tone makes Dreamboat Blaine shoot a shocked and appalled side-eye in her general direction.
And as the gears grind away deep inside Dreamboat Blaine's artfully-shellacked head, Black Sue continues, "Exactly, so here's the deal: If you want to stay onboard as co-captain of The Cheerios, you're gonna have to take a blood oath and loyalty pledge." For whatever stupid reason, Dreamboat Blaine does not take this opportunity to resign from the cheerleading squad he never wanted to join in the first place, and he instead asks, "Is that even safe?" Probably not, Black Sue admits, so they'll be skipping over the blood part to go straight to the pledge, which sounds a little like this: "I, Fruity Fonzie and Adult Baby Robin, do solemnly swear to neeeeeeh-ver put a hex on Coach Roz Washington, causing her to bring a gun to school so she gets real clumsy and drops it, and it goes off twice in a row, so help me God." Becky and Blaine do their best to replicate Black Sue's unique intonations on all of that, and once they're done, Black Sue rather curtly shows them the door.
Out in the hall, Dreamboat Blaine catches up with Becky and gently notes, "You were acting particularly strange just now -- do you know something I don't about what happened with Coach Sue?" "MIND YOUR OWN GAY BUSINESS!" Becky screams, adding for good measure, "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" At that, Becky spins on her heel to tear off towards her calculus class, swatting the books out of some hapless underclassperson's hands and upending a magically appearing xylophone as she goes. So, you know: There's clearly something not quite right with Becky. DUN!
April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Mr. Schue roams the empty stage all by his lonesome, taking a moment to recall happier times until his solitary reverie's rudely interrupted by the arrival of Bloaty The Cocaine Clown, who's there to accept Mr. Schue's earlier apology. He also chatted with the Dean of Students over at The University Of Lima, and wouldn't you know it? The Dean's more than willing to give Frankendrunk college credit for all the time he spends at McKinley as Mr. Schue's assistant. However, Old Finn would like to set a few ground rules before he returns: "No more fetching your coffee, or picking up your dry cleaning -- I don't want to come back to be a gofer." He wants to be treated as an equal, you see, and while I'm pretty sure Mr. Schue actually did just that when he left Frankendrunk in charge of The Glee Club for three or four months, I'm also pretty sure I don't give a good goddamn about any of this. Where the hell is Santana, huh? WHERE IS SHE?
Ahem. Anyway, Mr. Schue finds Frankendrunk's conditions acceptable, and the two bro it out right as we head into what I desperately hope is this evening's final commercial break.
Music Room. Mr. Schue enters and tentatively attempts to make amends with the kiddies he so viciously attacked a thousand years ago, but Dreamboat Blaine, Not-So-Unique, The Lady Lips Has Two Faces, and Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel aren't having it, and as the children slump and slouch their collective way into the cheap seats, Mr. Schue sighs and decides to try a different tack. "So," he begins, "just about twenty years ago, I was sitting right where you are now. I was co-captain of the soccer team, with a forehead full of acne, and a dream of being the Vanilla Ice." Artie quite rightfully grimaces in disgust at that, but I feel like I've seen that particular visual joke several times already on this show, so whatever. In any event, Mr. Schue continues, "And standing right here was Mrs. Adler. She constantly mumbled to herself, and she stuffed used Kleenex up her sleeves -- we were all convinced that she was crazy, but you know what? That's why we loved her. Because we were crazy, too." He's trying to kill me with this cloying bullshit, isn't he? "This is the room that always felt like home," he tells the kiddies, "maybe because we knew Lillian Adler loved music almost as much as she loved us, and that's how I feel about you. Every one of you." Yeah, he's not gonna stop until I actually drop dead. Pity for him I've already withstood far worse from this show over the last four years. "I'm sorry if I made any of you feel like you don't have a voice in this room," he says, finally getting to the goddamned point. "You do," he assures them, "and I know someone else who does, too."
At that, Frankendrunk comes stumbling in from the hall, and vast is the rejoicing up there in the cheap seats. Together, Mr. Schue and Bloaty The Cocaine Clown vow to devote every single waking moment of their lives over the several weeks to helping the children "blast through Regionals and earn [their] rightful spot at Nationals," and the room erupts in hoots and hollers and whatnot until Mr. Schue finally tells everyone to simmer down a little bit so that Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel might take the floor. She apologizes profusely by way of response, explaining she's hasn't had the time to learn all of the songs on Mr. Schue's set list, but surprise! Mr. Schue doesn't want her to sing any of his yucky old songs! He wants her to teach them one of her bright shiny new ones instead! "I'd love that!" Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel beams, and high-fives abound until we abruptly cut over to...
...The Improbably Bohemian Loft, where Old Idiot Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima await the inevitable phone call from Amy Aquino and Michael Lerner. "So, what is Broadway daycare, exactly?" St. Gay Of Lima asks, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "All the show people who have kids?" Old Idiot Rachel explains. "While they're rehearsing or performing, they send them to [Idina Menzel's] studio, and she teaches them, like, dance routines and songs, and plays theater games with them." That sounds gruesome. "It's like Fame for toddlers," Rachel adds, so she apparently agrees with me. The two chit-chat some more about something, but they're just killing time, here, until Rachel's cell starts buzzing. And when it does, she answers to learn she's been called back for Fanny, because of course she's been called back for Fanny. The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway and St. Gay Of Lima start babbling and braying and hopping around their little kitchenette, and as they celebrate, we head back over to...
...The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, where Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel leads the other children of The New New Directions in a rousing rendition of some piece of written-for-the-episode crap about rainbows, and it fills Mr. Schue with such an overwhelming sense of exuberance and joy that he cartwheels through the prancing kiddies, and is this over yet? Oh, thank God.
week, Sarah Jessica Parker returns, so at the very least, we can expect some fabulous couture. Have fun!
Demian thinks a song about barfing would have fit in quite well this evening. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.