Whatever the case, St. Gay propels himself into the number, and as the original kind of blows, and as this version has St. Gay never once descending from his head voice, and as St. Gay's enthusiastic prancing and mad hip-thrusts elicit little more than a cringe of vague horror from yours truly, I'll be skipping to the end: La Thibodeaux basically falls all over herself with the effusive praise for St. Gay and his "bold choice," after which she congratulates him "for taking such a risk today." See above -- far above -- for my thoughts on the claimed boldness of St. Gay's supposed risk-taking here. Also: Whoopi Goldberg's going to really hate Idiot Rachel, isn't she?
Alas, we must first suffer through this evening's next commercial break to find out exactly how much Whoopi Goldberg hates Idiot Rachel, and then we have to suffer through a scene in which Frankenteen materializes in the wings with a good-luck bouquet for his stupid fiancée. Finally -- finally -- La Thibodeaux summons Idiot Rachel to the stage and, as telegraphed in this evening's very first scene, Idiot Rachel proceeds to biff her audition for Fake Drama School In New York. Like, completely. It's actually pretty gruesome, though not as fucking gruesome as those utterly unnecessary and hatefully intrusive Twitter prompts that have been appearing onscreen throughout this evening's presentation, the latest of which pops up just as Idiot Rachel hurls herself into the opening bars of -- wait for it -- "Don't Rain On My Parade" from Funny Girl. I was doing my best to ignore them thus far, and I had every intention of making it through this entire recap without ever mentioning them once, but forget it: They're just pissing me off way too much at this point. It'd be one thing if the prompts were funny, like #HeyWhatHappenedToQuinnTonight, or #YourArtificiallyStuffedCrotchIsEmbarrassingMeKurt, or #ShutUpFinn -- the latter of which would probably convince me to get a Twitter account, just so I could send it repeatedly between eight and nine every Tuesday night -- but "#RachelsAudition"? #FuckOffGlee.
ANY-way, where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: So, Idiot Rachel totally biffs her audition for Fake Drama School In New York, and it's gruesome. She does little more than mix up a couple of the lyrics midway through the song, but that tiny error completely throws her, and her subsequent meltdown is actually excruciating to watch. And I mean that as a compliment, 'cause like Dot Marie Jones before her, Lea Michele is selling the absolute hell out of Rachel's rapidly escalating moments of confusion and terror and panic and pleading and soul-crushing loss, here. I hate it when actors somehow manage to overcome shitty writing and make me feel things.