Judy Martin makes for a horrifying sight as she stumbles back into the common room after her electroshock. Everybody turns to look at the horrorshow she's become. Lana allows more and more pity for this poor creature creep into her face every time she sees Jude. She can tell just from looking at her that they "turned up the juice extra high" on her. She wonders aloud to Kit why the sight of her former tormentor brought low doesn't make her feel any better. And what happened just then well, in Whoville, they say that Lana Winters' appreciation of institutional evil as opposed to individual villainy grew three sizes that day. Dazed Judy looks at the jukebox and becomes fixated. She staggers over to it and starts whacking it with her arm. Kit, whose expression has not changed from "Whaaaa?" this entire scene, looks on as Lana heads over to intervene. "It's me," she tells Jude. "Lana. Lana Banana?" Okay, first of all: who knew back in Episode 1 that "Lana Banana" would be such an enduring moniker? Second of all, good for Lana for adopting it proudly. If they had blogs in the '60s, Lana's would obviously be called "Lana Banana" and her fans would be called Peels. Actually, if there are slashfic communities out there shipping Jude/Lana (are there still shippers? is there still slashfic?), I also hope they're called Peels for this very reason. "Do you know your name?" Lana asks, not having the first clue what that question is about to unleash.
I'm going to describe to you the sequence of events that happen next. Whether they happened in the real world, a dream world or a wonderful alternate dimension that peekaboo'd its way into ours for a few minutes, I cannot say. All I know is that Judy proceeds to select a song from the juke: "The Name Game," by Shirley Ellis. A few quick things about "The Name Game": even if you don't think you've heard it, you've heard it -- it's the "Tony, Tony, Bo-Bony, Banana-Fana-Fo-Fony" song. It went to #3 on the Billboard charts back in 1964, before America had fully grasped the concept of music. Also, in its attempts to put the rules of a child's rhyming game to song, it is remarkably convoluted and hard to follow. A better version of the song would just be "Hey dummies, copy what I do," and then launch right into the banana-fana-fo stuff, but I'm not going to tell Shirley Ellis how to do her job. ANYWAY, Jude selects the song and then turns around. Suddenly, the Briarcliff common room has become a Technicolor wonderland, with Judy herself dressed up like an extra from Promises, Promises. The star of her own fantasia, Judy performs the song to her increasingly jubilant fellow patients (Lana and Kit are weirded out by things at first, but soon they're as wildly, uncomfortably into it as everybody else. Judy gives all her pals a chance in the spotlight, from Lana to Pepper (who, tellingly, is behaving like the old pre-Algernon-effect Pepper in this fantasy) to Kit. I'm even pretty sure I saw the ill-fated Mexican lady dancing around. The whole sequence is decidedly joyous, with not even a hint of dread at the edges, which of course makes it even more effective, both as an oasis of fun on an increasingly grim show, but also in making the return to dark reality seem that much darker. But mostly, it's a goddamn hoot to watch Jessica Lange and everybody else Glee it up for a few moments of bliss.