Rachel and Kurt are walking through Manhattan arm-in-arm, like they do. (Chris Colfer really is one of the most beautiful human beings on this earth.) Kurt is waffling about going home for Thanksgiving. For one thing, he really misses his dad. (So say we all.) But also, it’s Sectionals weekend and it feels weird being away. And plus: Blaine. Rachel says, “When we go home, we get sad, and we realize we shouldn’t be there, and our pseudo-boyfriend cheats on us when we let him out of our sight.” One day Kurt is going to need a lot of therapy because of Rachel’s inability to recognize him as an autonomous human being — or, well, Rachel’s inability to recognize anyone as an autonomous human being — but for now, Kurt says he’ll stay, as long as she promises to show him the best Thanksgiving ever.
Mike takes the fellas through an advanced dance class, and the idea that either Ryder or Jake could ever make their bodies do the thing Harry Shum Jr. makes his body do is ha-ha-ha-larious. But, well, Jake throws the dance-off due to his previous agreement in which he bartered a human life for a dance solo.
The New New Directions’ ladies crowd around Santana, Quinn, and Brittany and ask what sacrifices it would be appropriate to make at their altar. The girls squeal and fawn and ask them to demonstrate their legendary sinchronicity, so the Unholy Trinity breaks out into a little “Come See About Me” by the Supremes. It’s a Motown throwback to season one’s “Say a Little Prayer” and another reminder that Quinn has undergone more personality transplants than if Dr. Frankenstein had ADHD and a time machine and a hundred badrillion human brains at his disposal. When they’re finishing up their performance, Santana notices that Marley looks peaked, so she tenderly says, “Are you about to ralph or something?” Marley is like, “Heh. No. What makes you [wobble, wobble, wobble] say something … I’ve got to go anyway, I’ve been sold into indentured servitude to Jake.”
Kitty trails along behind Quinn like a puppy, barking her praises and licking her face. But Quinn is familiar with how she looks, the curve of her hip, the cock of her eyebrow. Strangers prostrate themselves before her in the mall sometimes, for goodness sake. What she would rather have as an offering is some salacious, untrue gossip. So Kitty obliges by explaining that Marley’s took up vomiting because Jake Puckerman wants to make the sexes with her. Quinn reacquaints herself with storming through the halls of McKinley in a manic rage, and it feels so good. She tells Jake to leave Marley alone the way Puck should have left her alone because Sectionals ain’t no joke, yo. There’s both rhyme and reason to it, and New Directions never gets a berth just because they’re the main show choir on this show.