Episode Report Card
Santana's Hair Is Full Of Secrets
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High, History Classroom Subdivision. Mr. Schue's in the middle of lecturing his students on the less-gruesome particulars of The Donner Party when his seldom-seen wife bursts breathlessly through the door to gasp, "It's time! We have to do it right now!" Mr. Schue wastes absolutely no time abandoning his charges -- because he's a teacher who really cares, dontcha know -- and he and Emma soon find themselves skittering through The Hallowed Halls on their way to the faculty bathroom. I'm just gonna make a little note here that the posters nearest the restroom's door read "GOT BALLS?" and "REPENT NOW!" and keep moving, for various bangs and grunts and squeals of delight are now emanating from the faculty can, which is a development I find both more intriguing and deeply repellent. And wouldn't you know it? Becky Jackson happens along the corridor at this very moment and, with her interest piqued by the unholy racket now assaulting all of our ears, she pushes open the relevant door -- which the Schuesters of course forgot to lock -- and immediately runs screaming for the nearest available exit once she's gotten an eyeful of the demonic goings-on in the faculty toilet.

Cut to The Lair Of The Sylvester, where The Sylvester herself announces, "I am disturbed on every level." There's a pause, during which Sue stares in nauseated horror at Emma and Will for a moment, and then she adds, "And Becky has been scarred for life." We get a brief shot of the catatonic, thousand-yard stare decorating Becky's face out in the office antechamber before the camera's focus racks back to take in the terribly embarrassed expressions now being offered by the offensive marrieds as both Emma and Will start in with their weak-sounding apologies. Sue halts their mewling with a simple gesture of her hand, and she proceeds to lay into them like so: "I am aware that the pheromones emitted from the orifices of your porous, bird-lady pelvis can cause an overwhelming urge to copulate in some emotionally stunted man-children with butt-chins who befriend teenagers and can't rap, but why could you not wait to copulate until you returned to the sickly-sweet stench of your own conjugal bed?" Emma, flustered: "I'm, well... Sue, uh, Will and I are trying to conceive a child." Sue, aghast: "Oh, God! Whyyyyyyyyyy?!" Hee! Emma, bless her heart, takes this as a serious question, and offers Sue a thoroughly candid and thoughtfully reasoned answer regarding the Schuesters' current situation in life, and how "there are certain windows of time where fertilization is most likely," and how ladies of a certain age must seize every opportunity available to them before it's too late, but what Sue really wants -- and what Will and Emma eventually provide -- is a solemn vow never to bump uglies in the faculty can again, ever. "Not gonna happen," Will promises. "Well," Emma flutters, all inappropriate smiles, "hopefully it won't have to, if I hurry up right now and lie down on the floor in my office and put my feet up on a chair, because we were able to achieve a successful emission!" Sue promptly vomits directly into this evening's equally disgusted title card, and with that, we're off to...

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