You think she can’t get any more cracked than she already is, but the next step up the cuckoo ladder is: rabid, and that’s exactly where Tina goes when she sees Blaine at school the next day. The audacity of not having her molestation of his sleeping body praised (or even acknowledged!) is just the absolute limit. She marches over and tells him about how she’s done with letting him take advantage of her — which: uhhh…? — and from now on she’s the Madonna in this situation. A pink leotard is involved in “Hung Up” along with a whole lot of background dancers that were cryogenically frozen in MTV’s vault back the days when they used to play music. Glee club is into it. The McKinley courtyard lunchtime crowd, all of whom are always up for a gay ol’ time, is into it. But Blaine and me are mostly just bamboozled. Him because the roofies are still in his bloodstream. Me because my eyes won’t unsee what they just saw.
While all of this is going on, Finn is Schuestering around Emma’s office wearing sweater vests and brainstorming Ways to Make a Difference and helping her pick out centerpieces. As soon as he said, “You’re the only girl at McKinley that always makes me feel better,” it was obvious he was going to make a play for her, but Emma Pillsbury lives in a whole other kind of bubble where TV doesn’t exist, so she didn’t see it coming. In a perfectly acted scene, Emma is freaking out about the wedding planning, halfway to a full-blown panic attack, when Finn gets right in there and plants one on her. He has the good grace to zoom out of her office like a gazelle instead of sticking around to tell her how she feels about the situation. Is Finn Hudson … growing up? No, it can’t be. I’m drunk on Naya Rivera saying “Rizzoli & Isles Subtext Blog.” My brain is addled.
Tina wins the diva-off, which is worth it just to hear Brittany in the background going lke, “Tina won a thing! Maybe the world really is ending!”
Sanatana, it turns out, has dropped out of school in Louisville, something Sue already knows because Sue knows everything because Sue is God. Based on her ability to draw actual blood with her verbal barbs, Sue offers to take on Santana as her apprentice, something that seems to be working out quite well with Finn, who is 86 percent Will already. Santana mulls it over in the auditorium because that’s where Brittany goes to do her thinking too.
Santana starts firing off trouty mouth insults as soon as she spots Brittany, but Brit has always known that stuff is just the white noise Santana uses to mask the lonley melody inside of her. Santana tries again, tossing bombs about her new girlfriend, but Brit swats that nonsense away with one swoosh of her hand. (Santana bought a date for the day with scratchers tickets and an Ani DiFranco t-shirt.) And so then it’s the truth: Santana is going to learn the Cheerios ropes from Sue, poison her protein shakes, and stay at McKinley forever. But, as always, Brittany is like Santana’s own personal Mirror of Erised, reflecting the deep and secret desires Santana has hidden even from herself. Just like she nudged her to embrace the truth of her sexuality, Brittany nudges her again to embrace the truth of her musical ambitions. They hug. They kiss. They let go, for now.
BUSHWICK, NEW YORK
The theme of Brooklyn life this week is DIVA! also, and the way you knew this episode was going to be good is that it opened with a Kurt Hummel monologue. I feel like we’ve been deprived of his voice for so long! It’s like cool spring water after weeks of drinking sand! Well, but Kurt has had it with Rachel 2.0. She’s as egomaniacal as Lima Rachel, but with 100 percent more bangs and sycophantic entourages and weirdly naked boyfriends. Kurt tells her exactly that when she starts ringing a bell for her morning tea and bossing him around with flash cards so as not to injure her voice. It goes about as well as you’d expect.
Kurt: Hey, remember all the worst things about you from Ohio? They still exist, only Santana and Quinn aren’t here to keep me from killing you.
Rachel: I knew I could only treat you like shit for a matter of time before you told me to stop acting like a bitch.
Kurt: Obviously the only way to slay the dragon of your id is for me to destroy you with my voice, so I challenge you to that thing like they did in Pitch Perfect, but more like one-on-one.
Rachel: Didn’t we do something like this several hundred times in previous seasons? And didn’t I beat you every time?
Kurt: Well, for one thing, my voice, like my supernatural good looks, are growing exponentially awesomer every day. And for another thing, I let you win because it weirded out my dad back then that I could sing like an angel.
Rachel: All of my confidence was built on that one moment of beating you!
Kurt: That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Your confidence has always been built on whatever guy is boffing you.
Rachel: Fine, let’s do this.