Later, a dejected Kurt is walking down the halls and sees Brittany and
Santana hanging his campaign posters, as pink and glittery and unicorned as
“I thought I said you had to tone it down,” he
Santana whips around. “This is toned down. In the original ones, the unicorn was riding you.”
Kurt grabs Rachel and asks her to help him with a second
audition, and Brittany
“I failed my precious unicorn,” she tells Santana.
“No, look, this campaign is brilliant,” Santana
tells her. “If he doesn’t get that, then he doesn’t deserve to have you as
his campaign manager. There’s no one like you. You’re a genius, Britt. You are
Twitter exploded. My heart may have stopped beating. Will we
get our Brittana after all?
Kurt has chosen to perform a scene from Romeo and Juliet with Rachel. He notes it’s the play that West Side Story was based on, and he and
Rachel are in full costume, courtesy of the vast and well-funded costume and
prop department at McKinley High.
They laugh at him. Even Rachel, the consummate professional.
I’m not sure I get it, because he was, I thought, pretty good. But when Rachel
lost it when he want to kiss her, I could see from his face that he was
Quinn, meanwhile, stops by Shelby’s office, where the coach is trying to
work with the tuneless Sugar Motta, without any luck. Sugar takes off, and
Quinn says, “She’s hopeless.”
“Nobody’s hopeless,” Shelby tells her, then recounts her own
misspent youth, when she, like Quinn, got a little skanky, with a Sinead
O’Connor haircut and Regis Philbin tattoo. But if Quinn wants to be part of
Beth’s life, she says, things have to change. And, echoing Mr. Schue, she says,
“The first step to becoming an adult? Stop punishing yourself for things
you did when you were a child.”
Quinn begs to see Beth, or even only a photo of her. Shelby has a photo of the
baby with Puck on her phone, and Quinn looks at it, crying. “You can be
part of this family, Quinn,” Shelby
says. “I really want you to be. It’s all up to you.”
Kurt has been reflecting on his experience at the second
audition, and bitterly tells his dad that he can only play roles in three shows:
La Cage Aux Folles, Falsettos, and Miss Saigon – as Miss Saigon.
“Dude, you’re gay,” Burt says. “You’re not
like, Rock Hudson gay. You’re really gay. You sing like Diana Ross and you
dress like you own a magic chocolate factory.”
Kurt seems taken aback, but his father goes on, asking what
the hell is wrong with that. “It’s who you are,” he reminds him.
Kurt says he does want to be who he is, but he also wants to
be able to play great romantic roles. His father doesn’t agree. When Kurt says
he’s tired of being a unicorn, Burt tells him to re-write the roles or write
new ones. “You know what they call a unicorn without a horn? A frigging
At Booty Camp, Mr. Schue is dancing with Mike Chang in
slow-mo, and it’s pretty cool. They get Finn to bust a tiny little move, and
the whole gang applauds when he gets through a routine without falling. And
then Quinn walks in, and she’s blonde again. And wearing a white dress. And
everyone hugs her like the prodigal daughter, and Puck is all full of joy,
until Quinn tells him it’s all an act and that she’s planning on getting Beth
back from Shelby.
I did not see that one coming. And this isn’t going to be
pretty. And Quinn was hot in pink hair.
Later in the teacher’s lounge, we find out that Sue is in
first place in her congressional race, and Will, Coach Beiste, and Emma plot to
find a candidate to run against her who can defeat her. Brittany has an election on her mind, too;
she’s walking dreamily down the hallways, which are lined with pink posters for
She sees him, and he tells her he was right; he needs to
celebrate who he is. “I am unicorn,” he tells her.
“Oh,” she says, radiantly happy. She hugs him.
“I love a happy, happy unicorn.”
“Thank you,” he says, all the air choked out of
“I’m so proud of you!” she says.