In Ohio: This week's improbable and soon-to-be-forgotten drama erupts when Mr. Schue announces they'll be competing at Nationals against a group of deeply committed aggravations collectively known as "Throat Explosion," who model themselves of course upon the most annoying human being on the entire planet. Chaos and lousy performance art ensue as the kiddies must decide how far they're willing to go in pursuit of their dreams, or some such bullshit, until Principal Sylvester suspends them all for dressing like idiots, because Sue's suddenly become the only sane person in that entire damn high school.
In New York: St. Gay Of Lima finally starts getting a subplot of his very own this season as he gathers together vocalists for his long-promised Madonna cover band that actually turns out to be not a Madonna cover band at all, because...I don't know. Nor do I care, really. In any event, after easily recruiting Old Idiot Rachel, Santana Lopez, and Demi Lovato as backup singers, St. Gay Of Lima goes off in search of additional musicians via a personals ad in The Village Voice, because St. Gay Of Lima has never heard of Craigslist, apparently, and everyone is very sad, indeed, when only one person signs up because no one reads the goddamned personals ads in the goddamned Village Voice anymore. Fortunately, that one person is Adam Lambert, who proves to be immensely entertaining despite the dreadful musical selections forced upon him this evening, and it looks like St. Gay's made a new friend. Who will likely disappear after a couple of episodes with no explanation whatsoever because Adam Lambert's just a guest star this season, but whatever.
Featuring "Marry The Night" and "Applause" by Little Steffi Germanotta, the former performed by Glamberace, and the latter performed by Artie, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, Dreamboat Blaine, Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, and The Only Finn Left Standing; and "Wide Awake" and "Roar" from Little Kathy Hudson, the former performed by New Puck, Single-T Tina, Urethra Franklin, and Pretty Kitty, and the latter performed by just about everybody in the cast.
McKinley High Music Room. The various children futz about with xylophones and scooters and whatnot until Mr. Schue enters from elsewhere with a "secret list" of show choirs the kiddies will be facing this year at Nationals, and I'm just going to just go ahead and ignore that whole "secret list" bullshit because we are literally a mere thirteen seconds into the episode proper, and that is just far too early for my brain to be exploding, thank you very much. Included on said list are "The Rust Belters" from Pittsburgh, "The ThunderShowCats" from Gainesville and "Throat Explosion" from Fort Wayne. Mention of this last group immediately hurls Single-T Tina into the howling pits of despair, and she spends several long seconds shrieking, "NOOOOOOOOOOO! GOD, WHYYYYYYYYYYY?" until New Puck helpfully steps forward to wonder, "'Throat Explosion'? That's a joke, right?" "Anything but!" Dreamboat Blaine pisses from his perch at the piano, going on to exposit -- at length, of course, and in the rapid-fire style that makes these opening information dumps so difficult to transcribe -- as follows: "They're the new supergroup the show choir underground's been buzzing about! Their budgets for costume, makeup -- hair alone -- are astronomical!" And in this they would differ from McKinley High...how, exactly?
Dreamboat Blaine doesn't answer me, because Dreamboat Blaine never answers me. Instead he lectures his fellows like so: "You guys read that Malcolm Gladwell book, Outliers, right? So, Gladwell says you can't possibly master anything unless you've spent ten thousand hours practicing it!" Your point, honey? "Students can't even join Throat Explosion without proving they've logged in ten thousand hours of show choir rehearsal!"
Cut to a montage of shots supposedly illustrating the members of Throat Explosion in the middle of a rehearsal or whatever, and long story short, they appear to be little more than a bunch of aggravating, self-aggrandizing assholes in clown makeup and black body stockings. Dreamboat Blaine's breathless description of the group, however, seems far more flattering than mine: "They perform every minute of every day -- they live their art! They know no boundaries, they're constantly pushing the envelope, living and performing on the edge! They're like mini-Lady Gagas!" So...aggravating, self-aggrandizing assholes in clown makeup and black body stockings? Got it.