Glee

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Smear back to the music room, where Lady Lips goofily admits that he, too, almost choked on a gumball once and, off Smearback Quinn's suddenly guilty expression, we...

...smear once more to the present, where Sam's voiceover continues, "I know she's into me, but I just get the feeling I'm losing her." On cue, Finn appears in the hallway to exchange a few Capital-L Looks with Quinn, and as Lady Lips trudges towards them through the sludgy slow motion of self-doubt, his voiceover determines, "I can't let that happen -- Quinn's the best thing that's happened to me since I got to this school." "But how?" Sam's voiceover despairs. Fortunately, at this very moment he happens to pass a locker adorned with a carefully mounted jackalope head, and his voiceover thrills, "Of course! My dad always said there are two ways to get a woman to love you: Take her hunting, and rock and roll!"

"I knew what I had to do," Sam's voiceover confides as the camera leaps with him into the bathroom, where we find Lady Lips carefully combing his luxurious locks forward across his brow. "I mean," Sam's voiceover rhetorically wonders, "who's more rock-and-roll than Justin Bieber?" "Everyone?" the audience automatically answers in unison. "No one!" Sam's voiceover vehemently insists, and it was at this point I was pretty sure this evening's promised Biebermania wouldn't completely suck, because by designating this wide-mouthed moron as the one to sing that unspeakable irritant's praises, The Powers That Be are clearly pissing all over the entire Bieber phenomenon, and that is something I have little choice but to applaud.

"The hair was Step One," Sam's voiceover narrates as the shot cuts from the bathroom to a reception hall, where a series of Mylar balloons spell out "MAZEL TOV" as they float above the heads of some very bored-looking adolescent girls. "Step Two," Sam's voiceover continues, "was booking a couple of bat mitzvah gigs to test how my new one-man band would go over." Lady Lips, now clad in a Bieber-appropriate hoodie, steps up to a microphone with his guitar, introduces himself as -- wait for it -- "The Justin Bieber Experience," and launches himself into a tentative cover of the unbearably monotonous "Baby." The young ladies present ignore him for the first few "notes," choosing instead to futz around with their Androids, until The Power Of The Biebs -- a fearsome force, even by Lady-Lips proxy -- overwhelms their collective sense of good taste, and they rise up as one to rush the stage in a tight, frenzied, mutant knot of grasping claws and near-ultrasonic shrieking that propels Sam backwards over his amp. And as he lies there on his back with that pack of adolescent harpies caterwauling above him while they reach down to pet at his irresistible coif, Sam's voiceover smugs, "Heads up, Quinn Fabray: You're about to be hit head-on with The Full-Blond Bieber!"

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Glee

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