So, anyway, New Finn's not the evening's shooter, even though he's certainly trying his damnedest here to make us think he might be, what with his explosive rage and his shifty eyes and his flinching and his twitching when Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel tries to talk him down from wherever the hell he is right now, and he eventually scampers off down the hall to, uh, go weep somewhere in private, I guess.
April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. Brittany and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen have summoned Not-So-Unique, Pretty Kitty, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, New Puck, Dreamboat Blaine, Artie and Single-T Tina to the stage so they might as a group serenade the regal-looking Lord Tubbington with their version of "More Than Words" from Extreme. And... that's totally it -- no dialogue leading in to or out of the number, no inventive camera angles, no funny reaction shots from either the humans or the cat -- just a straight-up acoustic cover of that cheesetastic song. It's nicely sung, of course, but who cares?
Sometime later, Will whistles a snappy little tune to himself as he exits his office to meet Beiste in the locker room, where she's set up an intimate dinner for two inspired by this scene from The Lady And The Tramp and yes, they referenced that scene before on this show, and to much greater effect the last time they did it, but that's not important right now because we've got to watch the formerly magnificent Beiste debase herself here, instead, and isn't that just terrific? You can see it coming the instant Will sets one of his entirely undeserving feet in that romantically-lit and gauzily-focused locker room: Beiste is going to confess her undying love for him, and he's going to shoot her down, and she's going to flee the table in tears, and that's exactly how it plays out, and it's vile and unnecessary and gross and disturbing and this show can rot in hell. We're supposed to believe that Will is the best Beiste can do? We're supposed to believe that Beiste would actually jeopardize her professional situation by pulling something like this with a colleague? We're supposed to believe that Beiste might actually be tonight's shooter?
The answer to that last one is actually a definite "yes," by the way, because they really overemphasize how distraught this whole horrific experience has left her. It was at this point that I had the disheartening realization that the idiots responsible for this mess were really going to have one of the leads fire the gun because they wouldn't have bothered setting up multiple suspects like this otherwise. Therefore, it was also at this point that I completely disengaged from this evening's presentation because fuck that noise. I realize that many, many people were quite rightly offended by this episode's flagrant exploitation of recent (and, let's face it, not-so-recent) national events for ratings and/or publicity, but after nearly four full seasons of emotionally manipulative crap like this, I find I simply can't summon up the necessary outrage to rant and scream about it anymore. Not that I ever really wanted to have to summon up the necessary outrage to rant and scream about it -- I mean, the show I signed up for was an adult-targeted black comedy about a bunch of psychotic-yet-endearing musical theater freaks, and it was fantastic -- but still: No more.