Glee

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Life's Candy, and the Sun's a Ball of Buttah

Hallway. Finn and Rachel natter for a bit about what just transpired in the music room until Finn admits, "I'm kinda pumped about Sectionals." "It's just been a hard couple of months with Quinn and the baby and everything," he explains, "and I really think that winning could make everything good for a while." Rachel, whose face had fallen the instant Finn mentioned Quinn's fetus, screws up her courage and tells him, "I want you to be happy, Finn, and when you care about someone, you can't sit around and watch them suffer when you know that you can do something about it." Finn's all, "Yes...and?" so Rachel hems and haws and gulps and blinks and looks down at the filthy tiles on the floor and looks back up at Finn's face and the doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doos ominously intensify on the soundtrack until she finally opens her mouth and announces, "I have to tell you something." During the commercial.

BAM! BAM! BAM! We return from the break to find Frankenteen positively whaling on the hapless Mr. Puckerman in the music room until Mr. Schuester arrives from points unknown to break it all up, and long story short, Quinn and Puck confirm that the fetus is not, in fact, Finn's, so Frankenteen pitches a fit, quits life, and lurches from the rehearsal hall after taking out one more bit of his frustration on a blameless piece of furniture. Yawn. What? I'm sorry, but teen angst bullshit without a body count is boring. Next!

Crap. Out by the trophy case, Quinn sits listlessly on a ledge, stroking her ever-expanding stomach while gifting us all with a thousand-yard stare. Rachel approaches to apologize, even offering to allow Quinn to beat her up, but Quinn replies with, "I'm not mad at you -- all you did was what I wasn't brave enough to do." Rachel admits she had ulterior motives -- namely, to break Finn and Quinn up so Finn would leap into Rachel's comforting arms -- but Quinn's beyond caring at this point and simply asks Rachel to leave her alone. No sooner has Rachel left, however, than Puck pops up to shoulder his share of the responsibility for Quinn's fetus, but she tells him to go blow, as well, as she's decided to do "this" on her own. Did I get everything? Good. Next!

And suddenly, it's Saturday. There's an inexplicably amusing shot of a sadly subdued Artie getting hoisted into the special handicapable Sectionals bus they purchased with the ill-gotten gains from Puck's marijuana-laced cupcakes before Will peppers Emma with a number of last-minute instructions, after which J-Fro races up "reporting for duty," as he's evidently taking Pouty Frankenteen's place as New Directions' required twelfth for the purposes of that day's competition. "I have to tell you," J-Fro warns before boarding the special handicapable marijuana-laced Sectionals bus, "I get terrible public event anxiety." "Just sway in the back," Miss Pillsbury instructs him. Heh. And after Emma confirms that there's still been no word from Pouty Frankenteen, she follows J-Fro onto the special handicapable marijuana-laced Sectionals bus, and Will dejectedly stalks off into the next commercial break without even waving them all off.

Buckeye Civic Auditorium, which is playing host to The Western Ohio High School Show Choir Sectionals featuring, for those of you who have forgotten, The Jane Addams Reform School, The Haverbrook School For The Deaf, and (of course) McKinley Senior High's New Directions. Out in the middle of the overcrowded lobby, the nervous McKinley kids fidget on various couches and chairs until Miss Pillsbury rejoins them to announce that she's got them all signed in, and that they've apparently drawn performance slot number three. "We're going last?" Single-T Tina scowls. "Isn't that bad?" Sensing her compatriots' unease, Rachel jumps up to reassure them with "Hardly! This is good news -- my extensive auditioning for community theater has taught me that we either want to go first or last." "If we're first," she overexcitedly claims, "then everyone has to measure up to us, and if we're last, then we're the freshest in the judges' minds!" "And," Kurt interrupts with an oh-so-sweet smile on his face, "did you ever get any of those parts?" Obviously not, from the way Rachel's suddenly clammed up, but Miss Pillsbury gamely -- nay, eagerly, for she is grasping at straws, here -- takes Rachel's side, insisting that they've found themselves in a very glass-half-full situation. Mercedes grinningly agrees, reminding her fellows that they've made it this far, after all, and they might as well walk in there brimming with "some positive mojo."

Alas, that positive mojo evaporates the instant the Jane Addams girls take to the stage, for International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig acquiesced to Sue Sylvester's nefarious plan, and her girls are now bringing the audience to its collective feet with a rousing rendition of "And I Am Telling You" that comes complete with a healthy amount of Jane Addams's signature booty-shaking. D'OH! Mercedes, absolutely crushed, stares at the travesty before her with mouth agape while Rachel, increasingly desperate to maintain her group's flagging and flailing spirits, fumbles around and manages to come up with a weak "It's a very popular song!" by way of attempted consolation, but Mercedes is having none of it, and buries her face in her hands. And then, just to add insult to injury, the reform school jailbait follows its opening number up with their own version of "Proud Mary (In Wheelchairs)" that, if anything, is even more enthusiastically received by the Sectionals audience than the Dreamgirls number was. Our increasingly sullen protagonists glower at the song-stealing hussies on the stage as Sue Sylvester's insistent, incessant drum-line theme marches onto the soundtrack to trample all over whatever else we might be hearing at the moment until...

...Emma, once more in the lobby, hyperventilates, "We've got a problem!" into her cell phone. "They're doing all of our numbers," she breathlessly continues, "and the kids are completely freaking out -- Artie keeps ramming himself into the wall, and I'm pretty sure Jacob Ben Israel just wet himself!" And in the far blurry background of the shot? Artie ramming himself into the wall. Repeatedly. HA! "I knew it!" Will seethes from the other end of the line. "Sue leaked the set list!" We know, pompadour. Keep it moving. "These kids need a leader right now!" Emma pleads, but it's not like Will and his mattress-molesting self can do anything about it, though he does urge her to hold tight while he tries to wrest a solution to this latest problem of theirs from the depths of his funky-fresh new jack swing ass. First, however, he must confront that wicked mastermind Sue Sylvester herself, who just happens to be striding through McKinley's halls this Saturday morning in a spiffily evil black tracksuit with Satanically stylish red stripes because she needed to stop by and feed her Venus Flytrap. And no, that is not some sort of sick, demented Ryan Murphy euphemism -- Sue Sylvester is so awesome, she has an actual Venus Flytrap in her actual office at school. Kick ass. "What kind of teacher are you?" Will howls, stomping on over to seethe in her casually gum-snapping face, "You leaked the set list, and you're not going to get away with it!" "That is a libelous accusation," Sue immediately replies, despite the fact that it would actually be a slanderous accusation were it not true, "and I insist you retract it immediately." "You have no proof," she calmly challenges him. "You are the only person who had the list!" he screams, his eyes bugging out as that vein on his neck starts jutting from his throat as it is wont to do in like situations. "But other than that," Sue counters with a smile, "you have no proof." Will, speechless with rage, flounders about in the hallway while Sue expertly takes charge of the situation. "It's time to face facts, William," she

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Glee

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