Smear sideways to Brit-Brit unconcernedly sucking on one of those Dots during the recent on-air competition as Artie's voiceover narrates, "That Sunshine Corazon that Rachel sent to a crack house was on the other team." By now, the camera's swept over to take in the utterly unnecessary guest star in question as she slaughters the contest's "Deadly Cyclones" category. The show, incidentally, is hosted by Rod Remington, but as he offers absolutely nothing of note to the proceedings, I'll be ignoring his presence in favor of focusing on how Brit-Brit saves the day. Quite fortuitously, one of the remaining categories -- among options such as "Defunct Sodas," "Famous Mervs," and "Fat Or Pregnant" -- is "Cat Diseases," and wouldn't you know it? Our dear little Brit-Brit is quite well-versed in that particular subject. In fact, she shows Rain Man-like levels of expertise, rattling off correct responses to questions on feline AIDS, ringworm, conjunctivitis, and kidney failure, thereby vaulting the Brainiacs into a tie with Carmel. And as the tie-breaker comes from the category "White Rappers" -- the announcement of which makes Artie positively beam with sly joy -- well, you do the math.
And once we've smeared back to the music room, Artie concludes his little tale by sadly announcing they'll be forced to forfeit, as they can't afford to travel to Detroit. "Why don't you just have your parents pay for it?" Rachel wisely inquires. And while Single-T Tina's response to that is unsatisfactory in the extreme -- to wit, "The school should pay for it; it's a matter of pride" -- Mr. Schue's response to Tina's response makes absolutely no sense at all: "We just need to sell more taffy!" What? The Brainiacs think the financially taxed school district should cough up the mere $250 they need to travel to their ridiculous finals, so Mr. Schue decides that means the Glee Club should accept responsibility for the costs involved by... you know what? Fuck it. Fuck it to death. Also: Title card.
Thunder rumbles ominously overhead as the clock strikes midnight deep within Sue's lair. "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you all together here in the dead of night when I'm normally out bow-hunting for hobos," Sue begins as the camera reverses to take in Dustin Goolsby, Sandy Ryerson, and Terri Delmonico-Schuester seated in a neat little row in front of her and, after Sue gifts the audience with a brief run-down of her guests' particulars, she continues, "We all have one very important thing in common: We all hate Will Schuester!" Sandy interrupts the proceedings to ask of Dustin, "Are you single?" "I'm not gay," Dustin claims. "I don't care," Sandy replies, angling himself in for a grope while explaining, "You're hunky, and I'm what they call 'Predatory Gay.'" Atta girl. Dustin scoots his chair a bit further away from Sandy as Sue regains control of the floor, and long story short, she's enlisted the others so that they might together destroy New Directions once and for all. You know, again. Some more. Sigh. Sue's proposed name for her gang of four -- "The League Of Doom" -- elicits an appropriate shudder of fear from Sandy, but the general conversation soon collapses into round after dreadfully unfunny round of clueless non sequiturs and nit-picky bickering, so I'll be skipping ahead to the point where Sue assigns each of her new minions their nicknames: Dustin is "Sergeant Handsome" (for reasons I'm sure anyone who's ever looked at Cheyenne Jackson will understand), Sandy is "The Pink Dagger" (which alone among this evening's nicknames will receive no link out, because it is filthy), and Terri is "The Honey Badger." Sue herself will henceforth be known as "General Zod" and, after she equips them all with beepers, the scene collapses yet another dreadfully unfunny round of clueless non sequiturs and nit-picky bickering before ending. Next!