In which we more or less live-blog this one.
Okay, we start with New Directions being complacent heading into sectionals — but wait! The real story is that Emma and Shue are still wiping things off each others’ faces!!! Okay, sorry, back to the complacency storyline, and here goes the bilious Sue Sylvester: “You have to remember, we’re dealing with children. They need to be terrified. It’s like mother’s milk to them–without it, their bones won’t grow properly.” Shue likes it, so he sets up an up-your-game exercise: BOYS VERSUS GIRLS (although poor beknickered Kurt doesn’t quite know where to go). Best line of the year so far from Artie, aka the Wheelchair Guy, who usually gets one good one per episode: “We’re planning on smacking them down like the Hand of God.”
Smooth transition to Sue’s journal, in which we learn that she tries to make beefbone smoothies and that she wants a hovercraft; she spots Quinn quivering in a pyramidal formation and pounces. Naturally she blames the “clutch of scab-eating mouth-breathers” (or is that “cabal of doughy misshapen teens”?) that is Glee Club, and goes into full-on Wile E. Coyote mode to take down Will, via Emma, by spilling all the beans to Terri. Over a deeply creepy cup of tea, Sue busts out with some of the best lines ever spoken on network television, including an absolute takedown of procreation (“Me? Never wanted kids. Don’t have the time, don’t have the uterus.”) and dear sweet little Emma Pillsbury (“a mentally ill ginger pygmy with eyes like a bush baby”). Also, she tripped an old lady into a coma and she is apparently John McCain.
This show is going nuts with a capital balls.
And now Terri is the school nurse, a massive buzzkill for the ambiguous twosome. Meanwhile, Finn is losing it due to his many activities–football, glee, video games, being popular–and he’s passing out too often to help the boys beat the girls. He’s not too tired to ogle Rachel, though, or to go see the helpful school nurse about his problem. She starts pilling him up, bringing to mind a certain Super Furry Animals lyric,* and suddenly Finn is EN FUEGO with manic good cheer…and lots of hyper pills, which he shares with his bros. This enables Team Boyz to tear the world a new hidey-hole with a pleather-clad mash-up of “It’s My Life” and “Confessions.” (Artie’s vocal on the latter is pretty great–IMDB says he started in a boy band, which makes this all pretty hilariously awesome.)
The girls, who were thinking they would walk this one, need to get their act together. It starts with Rachel reaching out to Quinn in an actually pretty touching scene; La Q admits that she has been a horrid person, and would still be if she wasn’t oven-bunned; Rachel says “I know” and leaves it at that, then walks away like a fame-starved cat that has just eaten some kind of canary. Sorry about the simile suckage, but it’s late.
Then we get a brief but most amazing conversation ever betwixt Ken and Terri. They agree that they have to bust up Will and Emma, but disagree on exactly how to do that: Ken suggests completing the ménage à quatre, while Terri busts his balls into proposing to Emma. (We also learn about Ken’s undescended testicle. Which is nice.)
Back to Rachel, who has set her phaser to “kick the boys’ asses in the mashup war” – which is an oddly specific phaser setting, now that I think of it. After a brief taunt from Finn, she’s suddenly got everyone in Nurse Terri’s office for decongestant imbibation. (Terri’s repetition of “I’m a nurse” becomes more sinister each time.)
And then back at lightning speed to the teacher’s lounge, where Ken busts out the cubic zirconia engagement ring from the hardware store. (Terri’s idea.) (Also, says Ken, “I know how affected you were by Blood Diamond.” Awww.)
Then back again to the craziest musical number yet seen on the show: the girls, clad in identical canary yellow dresses, mash-up the manic hell out of “Halo” and “Walking on Sunshine” at what must be about 400 bpm, throwing themselves around with callous disregard for life or limb. Poor dumb clueless Will applauds them and walks out with his “celebrity judge,” who is of course Emma —
And something strange happens. Responding to Will’s question about Ken’s proposal, Emma actually puts it on the line, something that hasn’t happened on this show yet: “Can you think of any other options I may have?” Jayma Mays is a raw exposed nerve here, real acting chops shining through the breakneck farce. If she lets herself, that is. And if the show lets her. Which wouldn’t be a great idea for too long.
They seem to realize that, because our next scene is a full-scale throwdown between Emma and Terri. Emma: “Will is a good man. He’s kind and he’s generous and he deserves a lot better than you.” OH SNAP. Terri: “You’re just an innocent little dove. Hm? You’re so innocent that you would steal a man away from his pregnant wife.” AND NOW THAT SNAP HAS BEEN DOUBLED. They joust around for a while (including some horrific swipes at Ken’s “fondue pot of nationalities” from Terri) but Emma knows she’s been been bad, and bested.
Terri continues her roll when Quinn decides to give her the baby after all. And then, boom, there’s Emma in the locker room, accepting Ken’s proposal after all. (On her terms, though: secret marriage, no dates, no living near each other. Ken’s classic reply: “That’s actually a better deal than I expected.” Although it’s hard to know how exactly this constitutes “not spending the rest of my life alone” from Emma’s perspective. Hmm.)
Rachel and Finn decide to withdraw their drug-fueled performances from competition, big deal, so what, ho hum. Because the next scene is a stunner: Will finally tells Terri off for being (A) a bad nurse and (B) a bad wife. “Every time I light a fire in my life, you find a way to make sure it burns the forest down.” She’s out as school nurse, to no one’s surprise. But then Figgins–fresh from his engagement last week as Aved’s falafel-obsessed father on “Community”!–drops another bomb. Because of his bad judgment in not knowing that his entire club was on the boing-boing pills, Will has to now welcome on board a co-chair: Sue to the m’f'ing Sylvester. Boo-yah.
And after getting half his soul pulled out, the rest is extracted in the very next scene when Emma tells him that she’s marrying Ken. It’s tears all round, it’s Beckett writing a sitcom with Kafka, it’s staring into the void and nothing stares back. There is no mud in Joyville. Not any more.
