Meanwhile, over at The Home, Sue's fled to her sister's side to process through her recent abject humiliation in a relatively muted navy track suit with dark orange stripes, and she apologizes to Jean for not protecting her more from the vicious taunts Jean was no doubt subjected to during their childhood. Jean serenely absorbs all of that, then reminds Sue of what they used to do whenever Jean was feeling depressed: Help at the animal shelter "to give back," "because there's always someone who's got it worse than you do."

"I'm a little confused," Emma warily admits over in her office. Heh. Yep, Sue's decided that everyone's favorite downtrodden, obsessive-compulsive bush baby would be the perfect pet project to pull her out of her funk. Doesn't stop Sue from addressing her as "Ella," though. Hee. There's a lot of funny dialogue and one or two priceless throw-away asides in this scene -- most of them coming from Jane Lynch, of course -- so I'll just try to summarize it as best I can: Sue's taken it upon herself to act as Emma's therapist, and to that end, she bribed Will's landlord to slip baby monitors under his sofa and bed, so she therefore knows of Will's "make-out sessions with the coach from Vocal Adrenaline" and his "sleepovers with that world-class banana magnet," Orange April. "You need to make a bold move," she counsels, rising from her chair to loom over a shocked and shaken Emma. "You suck!" she taunts, obviously trying to force Emma into defending herself. "You take weird little strides when you walk," Sue snarlingly continues, "as if you were raised in Imperial Japan and someone bound your feet!" "You make a valid point," Emma meekly whispers, leading Sue to howl, "Grow a pair! I'm insulting you! You refuse to stand up for yourself, you're so afraid of confrontation!" Point to Sue, which Emma willingly concedes, so Sue instructs Emma to be honest with Will about her feelings "in a public setting," where he can neither escape from nor manipulate her. "Trust me," Sue finishes, "you need to let him have it." And in stark contrast to the impending wacky library hijinks, this oughta be good.

Rachel's bedroom later that evening, where Rachel's unloading some utter bullshit involving some hateful couples' nickname I'll not be transcribing while Puck looks unreasonably hot modeling The Phantom Of The Opera's half mask. Yowza. Anyway, long story short, she's just buttering him up to costar in her "musically promiscuous" cover of "David Geddes's fantastically terrible '70s top-ten hit 'Run Joey Run,'" and Jesus Christ. "Run Joey Run" peaked at number four on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1975? What the hell was wrong with those people? Then again, people today just put that scab Ke$ha on the top of the chart as recently as February 27th, so maybe I should keep my mouth shut as far as the musical taste of Boomers in the mid-'70s goes. Anyway, Rachel explains the horrible song's wretched excuse for a plot before the two perch on her canopied bed to discuss this evening's Plot Device for a bit, and then they make out. Well, almost. Puck tries to seduce her into letting him cop a feel by ruefully admitting to his failings -- "I go to school and I say, 'Be cool, Puck! Be nice!' but by second period I've got a fire extinguisher in my hands and I'm spraying some dweeb with it and I don't know how I got there!" -- and noting that cheating on Jesse could only improve her placement on tonight's Plot Device before finally arguing that "Jesse will never fully understand what it means to be a Jew." And while Rachel's as tempted as any (relatively) sane human being would be by Puck's charm offensive -- or, you know, his offensive charm -- she ultimately restrains herself and convinces him simply to rehearse. Wow, she's an idiot. Commercials.