... to Figgins, in the hallway telling some young men what it means to be an American. Lauren Tuna is standing at her locker while Sue, wearing a surgical mask, looks on. Lauren complains about a fever, but Sue tells her to shut up. And then, as Figgins makes his mostly innocent way down the hallway, Sue deploys Lauren Tuna in his direction and gives her the command to let loose with both torpedo tubes. And by "torpedo tubes," I mean "nostrils." And the torpedoes are thousands of tiny snot-droplets, which Lauren Tuna proceeds to spray all over Figgins in a slow-motion sneeze.
Back in the present, Will asks how Figgins' illness resulted in Sue becoming principal. She tells him that it's a clause in her contract. She has the most amazing contract ever. Whoever negotiated it should come work for my law firm. (I mean it. We need people.) Sue tells Will her first order of business as principal: "Destroy the Glee Club." Will: "I thought we were friends?" Sue: "That got boring." She walks away. As Will turns to walk in the other direction, he gets a faceful of Lauren Tuna torpedoes. Which, again, are snot-droplets. Title card.
Will, looking a little flushed, is writing on the white board in the music room. His inner monologue tells us that he's feeling a little sick, but that he thinks he needs to power through it. He tells the kids that it's time they start thinking about song choices for Sectionals. Isn't it a little early for that? I mean, isn't the normal practice to make those decisions about an hour before the competition? And then he turns around to look at the kids, and they've all been replaced by Glee Babies. The camera starts tilting back and forth, both to convey Will's nausea and to torment those of us who suffer from motion sickness. Baby Santana tells Baby Puckerman that he's looking good, and the mohawked tot kisses his biceps: "These guns are fully loaded." Baby Rachel wants to use Sectionals as an opportunity to "start exploring the oeuvre of one Bernadette Peters." Baby Brit-Brit: "Some day, I'm going to go to Paris and go to the Oeuvre." Baby Mike Chang just wants to dance, and Baby Mercedes has the decency to ask Will about his health, since he looks like crap. Will excuses himself and departs for the nurse's office.
Cut to Will at home, in his Kleenex-strewn bed. The line for volunteer nurses forms behind me. I call first dibs on the sponge bath. And then Terri is there. Hurrah! She's cleaning up the disgusting used tissues on the bed. And if she's willing to touch all those snot rags without wearing gloves, she really is crazy. Or she still has feelings for him. One or the other. Unless the craziness is what causes her to have feelings for him. We can't rule out that possibility. Anyway, Will acts like a Republican and ignores all evidence that conflicts with his world view by claiming that he can take care of himself. But Terri knows that he's been calling on some poor neighbor to do things for him, since said poor neighbor got so sick of it that she called Terri to come take care of him so said poor neighbor could get some peace and quiet.