Episode Report Card
Demian: A- | 5 USERS: A+
Life's Candy, and the Sun's a Ball of Buttah

Cut to The Edward J. Veasey Memorial VFW Hall Post 1275, which has been lavishly decorated for Emma and Ken's sham wedding. One problem: Nobody's bothered to show up, as Will discovers when he enters to find Emma sitting at a table, alone, in her perfect Audrey Hepburn wedding gown. "Where's Ken?" he buhs. "Home, I'd imagine," Emma sighs before adding, "Probably trying to regain some of the pride that I stole from him." Off Will's perplexed expression, Emma elaborates, "He dumped me -- he said moving the wedding for Sectionals was the last straw." Will bumbles something about thinking Ken understood the entire situation, and Emma gently notes that Ken understood the entire situation all too well. Will, on the other hand, has been a clueless dipshit about the entire situation ever since the series began, so Emma's forced to spell it out for him like so: She didn't go to stupid Sectionals for the stupid kids -- she went to stupid Sectionals for stupid Will. Okay, so I paraphrased a bit. Sue me. In any event, Stupid Will has the gall to appear flabbergasted at this so-called revelation, and just when I've become impatient enough with this scene to fast-forward through to the end of it, Emma drops an actual bombshell: Understandably unable to return to McKinley given how badly she's handled everything in both her personal and professional lives as of late, she's e-mailed her resignation to Figgins, and her last day is this coming Monday. Poor Emma dissolves into tears and rises to flee, but Will grabs at her arm at the last moment to remind her, "I just left my wife." "Exactly," Emma replies. "You just did." With that, she offers him a brave little smile before scurrying from the hall, leaving him all by his lonesome to brood.

Principal Figgins's office, the following Monday. He's summoned Sue and Will to inform them both that Half-Deaf Guy From Haverbrook and International Recording Artist Eve And Her Scraggedy-Ass Blonde Wig admitted to receiving the McKinley set list from Sue. "You have no proof," Sue immediately counters. The set lists were on Cheerios letterhead. "I didn't do it!" On Cheerios letterhead marked "From The Desk Of Sue Sylvester." "Circumstantial evidence!" The set lists were written in Sue's handwriting! "Forgeries!" Figgins finally exclaims, "There is an orgy of evidence stacked against you!" and my, but that's a vivid image. "Well, you've clearly made up your mind not to be impartial in this case," Sue faux-exasperates, "so let's see if you can't wrap up this little lecture, slap me on the wrist, and let me get back to whipping my squad of champions into shape!" "We have to be in Albuquerque in a couple of weeks for Nationals," she blithely reminds her supposed boss, rising to show him her back as she marches towards the door. "Sue!" Figgins bellows in tones that will brook no dissent. "Sit down!" Sue imperiously meets him halfway by latching onto the back of her chair for what follows, and it's not pretty. Not pretty at all. "As of today," Figgins announces, "you are no longer coach of the Cheerios." Shock! Gasp! Generalized consternation! Figgins is forced to repeat himself at least once, then must shout above Sue's howls of outrage to explain his decision: "All this time, I thought Mr. Schuester was overreacting, and frankly? I was too willing to look past your monkeyshines because you kept winning, but now you've gone too far! You have embarrassed yourself and besmirched the name of William McKinley." "A failed president!" Sue rages. "The greatest one who ever lived!" Figgins rages right back. Hee! "You are suspended from this school," Figgins finishes, "as of today!" "My word is official!" he declares, slapping his desk for emphasis. "Let it be written!" Heh. Sue beats a strategic retreat, but there's murder in her eyes. We'll deal with that delightful development in a few moments, though, for first Principal Figgins must reinstate Will as official Glee Club faculty advisor, which we all knew he was going to do sooner or later, and with that, we head out into...

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