An oddly subdued Mr. Schue enters the music room just a tiny bit late for rehearsal to announce that he just got out of a meeting with The Maharishi. "Bad news, guys," he glums, once everybody's taken their seats. "Puckerman's in juvie." Oh, this oughta be good. "He drove his mom's Volvo through the front of a convenience store," Mr. Schue explains, "and drove off with the ATM." I'm not even going to try to figure out how any of that would work, much less how any of that would land him in juvie instead of Big-Boy Jail, so we'll just hope that Puck's enjoying his little vacation from the neverending bouts of tedious adolescent psychodrama battering the halls of McKinley High and keep moving. Several of the children unleash derisive snickers at this news, but Rachel does some quick Twelve Minus One Minus One math in her head and panics, "When is he getting out?" "Unknown," Mr. Schue frowns, just as Brittany giggles, "He may be the dumbest person on this planet, and that's coming from me." "Guys!" Mr. Schue peeves. "Let's have some sympathy!" "For a guy who put his needs before the team's?" Finn shoots back, nearly as agitated as Rachel. "We need his voice and his bad-boy stage presence!" Mr. Schue calmly encourages everyone to look at Puck's absence as an opportunity rather than a crisis, which allows him to segue into a ridiculously peppy introduction of New Directions' newest member, Sam Evans. Who?
Oh, the haircut with the lips from the season premiere. On cue, Lippy Hairdon't jogs into the music room with an astronomy textbook tucked under his arm -- the arm I thought had been ripped from its socket by a gargantuan, 'roid-fueled, overaged left tackle last week -- and he bounds over to Mr. Schue's side under the nakedly appraising stares of both Quinn and Kurt to introduce himself like so: "Hey, everybody! I'm Sam. Sam I am. And I don't like green eggs and ham." And with that, Sam Evans has managed to out-choad even Glee's über-dork extraordinaire, Mr. Schue himself. I can't wait for him to start rapping. "Oh, wow," Santana Lopez sighs, loudly agreeing with me. "He has no game." However, Finn and Rachel (but especially Finn, for some weird reason) couldn't be more super-psyched about the group's latest recruit if they tried, and Finn leaps up to escort Weenie Von Bieberhausen to a seat as Mr. Schue crosses to the whiteboard to scrawl the word "DUETS." "All right!" he perks. "What's a duet?" "A blanket," Brittany authoritatively replies, and once again, Finn enthusiastically agrees with Brittany's definition. I think Brit-Brit might want to rethink her assessment of Puck's intelligence vis-à-vis the rest of the planet.