"This is a disaster!" Rachel melodramatically moans. We've shot over to her bedroom, where she and Finn fret about the viability of their masterful plan for Sam's triumphant introduction to New Directions now that Mercedes and Santana have so clearly blown everybody else out of the Glee Club pond. Fortunately, Finn suddenly has an idea. "You remember how we saw Grease, and it was good?" he asks her. "And then we saw Grease 2, and I fell asleep? You said the difference was that the songs were bad!" Oh, Lord. "Bad" doesn't begin to describe this tuneless horror, kids, but I do appreciate the effort. In any event, Rachel quickly understands what he's getting at, and just as quickly agrees to perform a song as bad as those in Grease 2. "Not just a bad song," Finn astutely amends. "An offensive song." So, are we doing "offensively bad" or "badly offensive," then? 'Cause, you know, they're generally two different things. Most of the time.
The next day at school -- and I dare you to figure out what sort of Satanic calendar McKinley runs on, given that these damn weeks are so long -- Tina approaches Artie in the music room to suggest they perform together, what with Gaylord's apparent continued intransigence on the matter. Artie smugly notes he's already got a partner, thank you very much, and wheels over to Brittany just as Mr. Schue arrives to wonder who's next. Kurt flaps a hand into the air and rises from his seat to announce to all and sundry ("sundry" being "Tinkles"), "As many of you know, I had a duet partner, but due to sensitivities that I'd rather not get into at the moment, I have dissolved the partnership." Cut to Rachel, Finn, and Weenie Von Bieberhausen looking guilt-stricken. "So, who are you going to sing a duet with?" Mr. Schue prompts. "Only the most talented member of the Glee Club," Kurt smirks. Rachel all but places a studiously surprised and self-effacing "Who -- moi?" hand to her chest and deigns to gift Kurt with a gracious smile until Kurt continues, "Myself." Rachel's smile evaporates. Hee.
"When you're different," Kurt explains, "when you're special, sometimes you have to get used to being alone." "How can you do a duet by yourself?" Santana deliciously condescends. "That's, like, vocal masturbation, or something." Various of the children titter over Santana's saucy deployment of the M-word, but Kurt rises above it all to declare, "I will be doing a number from the seminal classic movie Victor/Victoria" -- a film, he claims, that's about "embracing both the male and the female sides," and I'd argue strenuously with that assertion, I'm sure, but as debating the funny little people in the television set almost always leads to bitter tears and angry recriminations, I'll let that one slide in favor of watching as Kurt tells Tinkles, "Hit it!"