I'll Give A Imitation Of A Crawfish

S04E22

In Ohio: Regionals have finally arrived, but of course, there's one final snag: New Finn refuses to rehearse until His Mysterious Internet Correspondent announces him -- or herself to the kiddies at large, and while Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel initially claims responsibility for the seemingly neverending subplot, Not-So-Unique eventually steps forward to confirm that everyone on the Internet called this thing two whole goddamned months ago.

With all that out of the way, the children of The New New Directions face off against The Hoosier Daddies from North Central High School in Indianapolis and The Waffle Toots from Cincinnati's prestigious Ziegler Prep -- Our Lady Of Perpetual Loneliness's NunTouchables having been excommunicated by Pope Francis in the aftermath of an embarrassing sexting scandal up in Battle Creek, naturally -- and to absolutely no one's surprise, McKinley wins, probably because they were the only group to bother performing a full program of three songs.

In New York: The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway makes it to final callbacks for Funny Girl in the opening moments of this evening's presentation, then completely disappears from the screen for the remainder of the episode, likely because Frankendrunk's in rehab, and God knows Old Idiot Rachel can't have a fully realized storyline of her own without his increasingly aged ass staggering around in the background somewhere.

In Other News: Brittany gains extra-early admittance to The Massachusetts Institute Of Technology, Sugar Motta and Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Will Never Have To Look Up Because I'm Pretty Sure He's Gonna Get Fired Over The Summer return from points unknown to sway in the background for a scene or two, Coach Sylvester confirms that Michael Bolton is the father of her suspiciously absent child, Dreamboat Blaine buys an engagement ring for St. Gay Of Lima, Neely O'Hara proposes to Elyse Keaton, and Will and Emma finally get married.

Featuring Celine Dion's "To Love You More," as performed by Old Idiot Rachel; Kermit The Frog's "Rainbow Connection," as performed by the golden-throated gentlemen of Ziegler Prep; two obscure Eurotrash dance tracks, as performed by The Hoosier Daddies; and two more equally obscure Eurotrash dance tracks -- plus some utterly forgettable piece-of-crap original that nobody cares about -- as performed by various configurations of The New New Directions.

"Thanks for waiting, Miss Pierce," a professorial gent begins as he enters a clubby, wood-paneled room with an important-looking binder in his hand. He's trailed by a colleague played by the easily recognizable character actor (and occasional drag queen) Jack Plotnick, whom the initial gentleman politely introduces as "Doctor Leonard Hauptman" before identifying himself as "Doctor Donald Langdon, Dean of the Mathematics Department here at MIT." Our charming little Brit-Brit beams brightly at the distinguished professors by way of reply, and assures them both that plain old "Brittany" will suffice for the remainder of their conversation, as opposed to the far more formal and stuffy-sounding manner of address to which they are apparently accustomed.

Wasting very little time, the good Doctor Hauptman admits to Brittany that when The Massachusetts Institute Of Technology got wind of her near-perfect SAT scores, they were more than a little skeptical, seeing as how Brit-Brit's grade-point average currently stands at 0.2, which means she's "never gotten higher than a D-minus." "Is that why I had to take that math test this morning?" Brittany wonders. Indeed it is, as the good Doctor Langdon confirms. "And how did I do?" Brit-Brit quite reasonably asks. "You scored a zero," the good Doctor Langdon blinks. D'OH!

The good Doctor Hauptman agrees that Brittany lacks "a basic understanding of even the simplest arithmetic," and he bemoans the fact that Brit-Brit chose to fill in her answer ovals with crayon -- which led to complete breakdown of the department's Scantron machine, of course -- before the two clearly befuddled academics ask Brittany to explain the cramped and complex series of numbers she doodled in a variety of vibrant colors on the back of the test sheet itself. "Yeah, I don't know," Brit-Brit shrugs. "I didn't know any of the answers on the test, so I had all these numbers swirling around in my head, so I just decided to write them all down so my brain would stop feeling so tickly." As the good Doctor Langdon projects the numbers in question onto a nearby screen, the good Doctor Hauptman rises to his feet to express his unvarnished astonishment at what our dear little Brit-Brit has wrought, and here's where the scene completely falls apart because the dolts on this show's writing staff are clearly as innumerate as dizzy Brittany over there. She hasn't somehow offered up an elegant and simple proof for something like Beal's conjecture, or anything like that -- she's simply scribbled down a series of integers that, when read in a variety of ways, form either an incredibly lengthy prime, the beginning of Avogadro's number, or the start of Planck's constant. Yawn.

The good doctors, however, are considerably more impressed with Brit-Brit's efforts than I am, and go so far as to claim that what they're calling "The Brittany Code" "will go down in history as the most important scientific breakthrough of the twenty-first century." "That is totally amazing!" Brittany enthuses, adding, "I thought you were gonna tell me I was an idiot, and that's bullying, and I won't tolerate that." For whatever reason, the good Doctor Hauptman lets that one slide, and as he retakes his seat at the table, he carefully states, "It's possible that you may be the most brilliant scientific mind since Albert Einstein." "And that is why," the good Doctor Langdon notes, "we here at MIT would like to present to you a very unusual proposition." Brit-Brit stares back at them for a little while, clearly wondering what the word "proposition" means, until the camera cuts away from her dim little face to dive down through The Brittany Code into this evening's extra-special title card "By Brittany," in which the aquamarine G of the brightly crayoned "glee" has been turned into a smiling cat.

And before I get a chance to wonder what tonight's extra-special title card signifies (SPOILER: Nothing. Tonight's extra-special title card signifies nothing), Brittany's brightly crayoned "glee" slides off the left-hand side of the screen as New Finn's white-on-black silhouette zips in opposite. "Can u at least tell me ur name?" New Finn's Silhouette asks via a just-appearing text message. "It's me Kitty!" Pretty Kitty's Silhouette answers. "It's me Blaine," Dreamboat Blaine's Silhouette interrupts, knocking Pretty Kitty's Silhouette back from whence it came. "Oh it's Unique, baby," Urethra Franklin's Silhouette immediately coos, booting Dreamboat Blaine's Silhouette down through the bottom of the frame, and we cycle through other imaginary responses from the likes of Single-T Tina, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, New Puck, and Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, all in silhouette form, of course, until we cut over to...

...a miserable-looking Actual New Finn, who's rather prettily pouting away in the music room while Mr. Schue steps forward to announce, "It's finally here! Regionals!" The other children present whoop and holler, as is their wont, as the camera sneaks a peek at the whiteboard, upon which Mr. Schue has scrawled this episode's official title. New Finn reluctantly joins in on the applause as Mr. Schue continues, "I just found out because of safety concerns related to late-season tornadoes, Indianapolis has declined to host the competition, so as defending champions, we're having Regionals here in our auditorium!" Another series of screams and yells erupts from the children present, despite the fact that not a single word of what Mr. Schue just said makes any sense whatsoever, and after Artie shouts out something about a "home-court advantage," Mr. Schue continues with the following bit of exposition: "Because of a sexting scandal at Our Lady Of Perpetual Loneliness, their glee club, The NunTouchables, has been excommunicated by the new pope, and they've been replaced by the world-famous boys of Ziegler Prep, The Waffle Toots." "Like 'cake farts'?" Artie instantly wonders, and as I never needed to know that "cake farts" were an actual thing that exists in this world, Artie can now rot in Hell.

By Demian

In any event, Mr. Schue blathers something about The Hoosier Daddies still representing The New New Directions' primary concern as far as the competition goes, and as he settles down in a chair to speechify at great length regarding defining moments in great artists' lives, or something, the camera cuts over to...

...the lonely-looking hallway where Old Idiot Rachel's reviewing her audition music one more time before her last callback for Funny Girl, and the instant Mr. Schue finally shuts up back in Ohio, Amy Aquino appears to invite The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway in for a final round of judgment. If she's nervous at all, Old Idiot Rachel's not showing it, and she confidently enters the atmospherically lit audition space to offer the production staff her version of Celine Dion's "To Love You More." And it's as thoroughly boring and utterly forgettable as only a Celine Dion power ballad sung at an audition can be, though Old Idiot Rachel is in actual tears by the end of it, so there's that, I suppose. And when it's over, Amy Aquino smiles and lets The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway know that the production team will be in touch.

Music Room. Sugar Motta and Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Will Never Be Bothered To Look Up EVER Because He's Clearly Getting Fired The Instant This Episode Is Over return for a final round of rehearsals with the rest of the gang just as Brit-Brit strides in, fresh from her MIT interview, with a whole new smart-lady attitude, demanding all the solos for herself from here on out, and reading several of the other children like so: "Let me break it down: No one in this musty choir room compares to my megawatt star power! Blaine? You're shorter than your average lawn gnome. [Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name Demian Will Never Be Bothered To Look Up EVER Because You're Clearly Getting Fired The Instant This Episode Is Over]? You look like a Yucatan spider monkey. And Tina? You're just...Tina." Heh. Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen attempts to calm Brit-Brit down, but she just breaks up with him via text before making to blow on out of there, thank you very much. "Why are you doing this?" Mr. Schue impotently calls after her. "I'm just living your lesson," Brittany snots back. "It's all, or nothing!" "ALL OR NOTHING!" she yells one more time for good measure, and with that, our suddenly obnoxious little Brit-Brit breezes on into this evening's first commercial break.

Coach Roz Washington's (Temporary) Office. Black Sue hears someone a-knocking at her office door, so she quite naturally calls out, "Come in!" And when the knocking continues, Black Sue stomps over to fling said door open while screaming, "What the hell are you doing?" "I'm nailing my ninety-five theses to the door!" Brit-Brit defiantly replies right before she goes on to explain that the crayoned sheets of paper she's tacked onto every available flat surface in the immediate vicinity actually contain all of the reasons she's quitting The Cheerios, effective immediately. She then proceeds to stuff her gasoline-soaked cheerleading uniform into a handy trashcan and sets it alight, much to Black Sue's vocal dismay. And as I begin to wonder why they bothered including this objectively pointless sequence in tonight's season finale, Brittany floats back out into the hallway while Black Sue attempts to subdue the subsequent trashcan conflagration with a Slushie.

Music Room. Mr. Schue's about to begin rehearsals when New Finn rises to address his fellow kiddies like so: "I hate to pull a Brittany, here, but the bottom line is, I'm not performing at Regionals until Catfish reveals themselves." The camera gets all spinny as he works himself up into a righteous lather about the whole thing, and we whip from one solemn denial from his peers to the until Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel finally leaps to her feet to claim responsibility for New Finn's seemingly never-ending subplot. New Puck hangs his head in something approximating shame, I suppose, while Not-So-Unique shoots Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel a rather significant side-eye, and Sugar Motta valiantly tries and obviously fails to care at all about any of this crap as New Finn snatches up his backpack to storm angrily from the room. Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel slowly sinks back into her chair, looking all lost and forlorn, but because the fuzzy shape of Not-So-Unique is taking up a full half of the screen in the close blurry foreground of the shot, here, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's just covering for Urethra Franklin, because duuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

The Only Jewelry Store In Ohio. Last seen, I believe, during this episode a year and a half ago, but don't quote me on that. And oh, my God! It's actually owned and operated by none other than the incomparable Miss Neely O'Hara! Yeah, sure, Patty Duke won her Oscar for this, but she'll always be Neely O'Hara to me. Anyway, and long story short, Dreamboat Blaine's dragged Single-T Tina and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen to Neely O'Hara's jewelry store -- named, I'm sure, "SPARKLE, LIMA, SPARKLE!" -- to select an engagement ring for St. Gay Of Lima, and because I'm doing my very best to ignore this asinine subplot this evening, I'll cut to the end: Neely O'Hara asks Dreamboat Blaine if he has anyone to "advise him on this," and when he admits he doesn't, she invites Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay Of Lima to dine that evening at BreadstiX with herself and her significant other, "Liz."

Meanwhile, back at the high school, Brittany blows through the darkened music room to find Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester waiting for her in the adjacent office. "We need to chat," Coach Sylvester begins. "I thought you were teaching aerobics to fat soccer moms," Brit-Brit snots back. "I stopped by the teacher's lounge to retrieve my baby's placenta from the fridge," Coach Sylvester calmly replies, patting the cooler she's placed beside herself on the couch. Mr. Schue pointedly angles his body away from the thing -- hee! -- and observes, "Sue and I are very worried about you." "And we need to know what's going on," Coach Sylvester finishes for him. "I refuse to speak to either of you in this office," Brittany snarls, adding, "It's dusty and drab, and Mr. Schue's 'Teacher Of The Year' picture really creeps me out, so there's only one place that I'll talk: My turf, my rules, my fondue."

Cue the opening credits of Fondue For Two, and before we know it, we've shuttled over to Brittany's boudoir, where the lady of the bedroom introduces the latest installment of her smash-hit web series like so: "Tonight's guests are two sworn enemies who became friends, then became enemies again, then became friends again, then enemies, and then everybody stopped caring: Sue Sylvester and Will Schuester!" Coach Sylvester remarks that Brit-Brit's fondue smells "like someone poured Chardonnay on a homeless woman who'd been dead several days," and with that, Brittany starts in with the questioning. "So, Mr. Schue," she coyly wonders, "is it true that you and Emma are finally getting married?" "Looks like it!" Mr. Schue grins. "Awesome!" Brittany perks, adding, "Do you plan on having children, or just continue to have weirdly intimate relationships with high school students instead?" Mr. Schue's answer is unimportant, but speaking of children, what would Coach Sylvester say if Brit-Brit told her she knew the true identity of her never-seen infant's father? "I would say that's highly unlikely," Coach Sylvester replies. Brittany instantly whips out a folder full of newspaper clippings that seem to indicate the father is Michael Bolton, but the real proof lies in the fact that the first song on Michael Bolton's just-released new album is entitled, "I'm So Proud To Be Your Father, Robin Sylvester," so there's that mystery no one cared about solved. Though in case you were wondering, "Michael Bolton is a fantastic lover." According to Sue, at any rate. And will you fine people be getting to the point of this scene anytime soon? You won't? Well, fuck you, too, then.

By Demian

Well, New Finn verbally tears Not-So-Unique to pieces, and Not-So-Unique attempts to explain herself through a faceful of tears, but you get the general idea. This resolution was so obvious from the very beginning of this storyline that I'm more than a little annoyed that they waited until the last episode of the season to deliver it, mainly because this particular storyline is the only original one they've managed to knock together for the new kids all goddamn year long. Against my better judgment, I'm actually interested in how this will all shake out, so you'll forgive me for being just a wee bit pissed that I'll have to wait until the fall to see what happens to these two. Sure, New Finn claims he'll never speak to Not-So-Unique again, but unless they fire one (or both) of these actors over the summer break, you know that's not true. And yes, given the terrible track record this show has in dealing with these sorts of issues, I'm sure that whatever comes will be gruesome in the extreme, but still.

Oh, whatever. Another wasted opportunity in a season that's been full of them. And why the hell haven't we had a musical number in a half an hour? Huh? GOD, I hate this show.

Smash to an abbreviated version of the Fondue For Two theme song. Tonight's guest is Santana Lopez, and Miss Thing is not having it. Santana wastes little time switching off the cameras and demands to know what the hell is going on. "You're acting like a completely different person," Santana protests, "and it's making me sad." "Well, get over it," Brit-Brit eyerolls, "because sadness is stupid." Santana takes a moment to let that one slide without comment, then locks eyes with her ex-girlfriend to state, "I still care about you -- as a person and as a friend -- and this just isn't you." Brittany eventually allows her recently-erected snotty façade to drop and confides, "What I'm about to tell you is going to change everything." Yeah, I'll be the judge of that, honey. Unfortunately, said judgment will be delayed until after this evening's commercial break.

April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Miss Pillsbury arrives to take a seat between Santana and Mr. Schue for the wacky Regionals hijinks to follow, and after the three exchange a few words with each other, Mr. Schue scuttles off backstage to check on his kiddies.

And while he's doing that, the house lights dim, and our usual overexcited competition announcer guy welcomes the suddenly shrieking crowd to "The 2013 Greater Midwest High School Show Choir Regionals." In case you were wondering, tonight's special guest judges include "the executive director of Ohio State Supermax Penitentiary, Warden William Bobby," "wrongfully accused football legend, Coach 'Fingers' Shebransky," and "Indiana's number-one circus contortionist, Lady Marvelous." Lady Marvelous proceeds to do something absolutely inhuman until Our Usual Overexcited Competition Announcer Guy introduces this evening's first set of contenders like so: "Their parents are rich, and their voices are golden -- from Ziegler Prep in Cincinnati, it's The Waffle Toots!" The stage lights slowly come up to reveal a group of thirteen young gentlemen clad in identical white ties and tails, and I guess here's as good a place as any to point out that The Waffle Toots are actually Yale University's renowned Whiffenpoofs, which is a completely ridiculous name for a singing ensemble, but it's apparently worked for them for more than a hundred years now, so what the hell do I know? In any event, The Whafflepoots proceed to offer us all their rendition of Kermit The Frog's "Rainbow Connection," and it is both outstanding and lovely, and it's easily the best of this evening's musical offerings. Of course, this means it gets cut short before they make it halfway through the first chorus because this show sucks and I want to die, but what else is new?

Meanwhile, over in the wings, New Finn and his SHOULDERS! roll in from points elsewhere to announce that they'll be performing with the other kiddies after all because New Finn's realized it wouldn't be fair to punish all of them for something only one of them did. However, he adds, once Regionals are over, he's through with The New New Directions for good. Yeah, we'll see about that.

Back on the stage, Our Usual Overexcited Competition Announcer Guy announces The Hoosier Daddies, and that dangerously underfed toddler from a couple of weeks ago proceeds to scream her way through a pair of songs I've never heard before, but which are apparently quite popular amongst the pre-teen set nowadays, so I suppose that explains their presence in this evening's episode. The Screamer's accompanied by a gaggle of exceptionally fancy prancing boys along with a quartet of fairly fierce female backup singers, all of whom whirl about her in a variety of pretty poses because The Screamer obviously can't dance for crap herself, but once again, there are far too many jump cuts for me to be able to tell if their routines are any good. Or even enjoyable, for that matter. And as the easily entertained Regionals audience leaps to its feet as one to offer The Hoosier Daddies a sustained round of applause, Brit-Brit shyly sneaks up behind Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen to let him know, via a hug, that she's seen the error of her snotty ways, and will be joining the other kiddies onstage after this evening's commercial break.

Wait a minute. Does this mean Mr. Schue was originally gonna try to get through Regionals with only ten performers before New Finn and Brit-Brit decided to grace us all with their presence? Oh, whatever -- like anyone gives a shit about the supposed rules at this point.

Music Room. Mr. Schue calls the kiddies together for a last-minute show circle in the center of the room, and joining the usual gang of idiots are St. Gay Of Lima, Santana Lopez, Gaylord Wiener and Mercedes. Brittany swiftly dominates the touchy-feely nonsense that follows with a heartfelt little speech explaining her bizarre behavior as of late, while also announcing her imminent departure from McKinley High School because Heather Morris is quitting the show to start a family with her insanely adorkable fiancé. You know, more or less. "I got offered early admission to MIT," she tells the others. "I never thought I'd graduate high school," she admits, "let alone go to college, so I have to jump on this offer before it gets taken away." "And they want me to leave immediately," she adds, "so that's why I had that meltdown." There's more -- much, much more -- and it of course leaves everyone in tears, but it's pretty badly written, and big chunks of it directly contradict everything we've known about the character up to this point, so I'm gonna go ahead and pretend she shut up after apologizing for that little psychotic break she suffered earlier in the evening. Needless to say, hugs abound once she's done, and once the kiddies and their various invited guests do that hand thing of theirs, the camera cuts over to...

By Demian

Oh, whatever. Another wasted opportunity in a season that's been full of them. And why the hell haven't we had a musical number in a half an hour? Huh? GOD, I hate this show.

And when the slow-motion montage is done, Brittany makes her lonely way back upstage to the risers, where she sits quietly by herself, staring at the now-empty auditorium until Santana appears to draw her up into an embrace, after which the two ladies walk off arm in arm. Awwwwwwwww.

Music Room. As the celebration continues amongst the kiddies and their special guests for the evening, Mr. Schue enters to exposit that season's Nationals will be held in sunny Los Angeles, for whatever that's worth. Just then, Miss Pillsbury materializes in the doorway with a gentleman of the cloth, and as the children quiet themselves at her unexpected appearance, she crosses to Mr. Schue to announce, "I figured out that I can't handle the pressure of a big wedding, so I told Will if we're gonna get married, that I wanted an intimate ceremony in a special place, surrounded by the people that we love." "Are you guys seriously throwing a surprise wedding," St. Gay gay-gasps, "just like Brooke Burke and David Charvet?" "Yes," Mr. Schue smiles. "No music, no reception, no planning," Miss Pillsbury confirms. "Just me, the one true love of my life, and then we'll have a little dinner at BreadstiX." Bummer, 'cause that reception they threw the last time around was epic.

Seconds later, the kiddies have formed two neat little lines to function as some sort of singing honor guard, and with Sugar Motta leading the way, deliriously showering the music room linoleum with rose petals as Miss Pillsbury's flower girl, the children and their special guests hum Richard Wagner's Nazi wedding march as Emma makes her way towards Will's side. This all feels so depressingly anti-climactic. And we haven't even hit the vows yet.

Naturally, Mr. Schue's forgotten to prepare something special for the ceremony, because he's an asshole, but Miss Pillsbury's more than happy to make a romantic speech for the both of them, so... that's exactly what she does. I actually had it all typed out, and I was fully intending to offer you good people the complete transcription, but when I started proofing it, I began to absorb what she was saying, and that's when the vomiting kicked in. The violent vomiting, I should note. So, you know, I got all mindful of your health and well-being and whatnot and decided to delete it, 'cause that's just the type of caring and giving human being I am. You can thank me later.

By Demian

...The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, where The Glee Gals have already taken their places upon the stage to ooh and aah until New Puck leaps out from the wings to kick-start The New New Directions' version of this insipid thing by these guys. New Puck's eventually joined by the rest of The Glee Guys on the primary vocals, with Artie seeming to handle a significant part of the actual subsequent singing, and I cannot begin to express to you how happy I am once it's finally over.

Unfortunately, The Glee Gals are up with this piece of pointless trash, originally sung by two women who sound like they learned the English lyrics phonetically. Actually, The Glee Gals kinda sound like they learned the lyrics phonetically, too, so maybe the song just flat-out sucks. There's also not much organized choreography to speak of, with the kiddies instead flailing around about the stage for the most part, and the only moment of note occurs at the very, very end of it all, when New Finn and Not-So-Unique somehow end up standing to each other. As they wait for the final song in their set to begin, they toss a couple of tense glances in each other's direction, and I get pissed off all over again over the missed opportunity to follow through on their storyline this season instead of . Sigh.

Anyway, Dreamboat Blaine and Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel assume control of the stage for this evening's final number, which is some instantly forgettable bit of written-for-the-episode garbage entitled -- wait for it -- "All Or Nothing," which I guess is appropriate because I have absolutely nothing to say about all of it. And when it's over, the kiddies join hands in a line across the stage to bask in the vocal adulation of the easily entertained Regionals audience until we eventually drop into tonight's final commercial break.

April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Immediate aftermath. Also known as "The Results." Because they only sang one song, The Whafflepoots are awarded third place. Because they only sang two songs, The Screamer and her backup gays take second. And because they were the only group to perform a full complement of three songs during this evening's competition, the kiddies of The New New Directions win. Hooray? There follows the usual slow-motion celebratory montage, though this bit is somewhat unexpected, likely because I am bored beyond belief: Caught up in the generalized excitement over their win, New Finn and Not-So-Unique wrap each other in a congratulatory hug for a moment until they remember that they're supposed to hate each other, at which point they break apart and stomp off in different directions.

By Demian

And when it's over, and when Mr. Schue has responded in kind, and when I've stopped with the projectile vomiting for the second time in less than a minute, the gentleman of the cloth pronounces them married. Cheers erupt from the assembled kiddies because of course they do, and as Dreamboat Blaine positively beams at St. Gay Of Lima, the camera pulls back to reveal the little jewelry box Dreamboat Blaine's been twiddling around in his fingers this entire time. Dun-dun-DUN!

I'd claim I can't imagine a more disappointing season finale, but we all know that's bullshit.

week: Nothing! Enjoy your summer, and we'll see you back here in September.

Demian's actually going to miss our dear little Brit-Brit. You may forward your kind words of consolation to demian_twop@yahoo.com.