"Can I say something?" Jesse St. James interrupts at precisely the right moment to preserve what little is left of my tattered sanity. "When someone dies, yes, it's a tragedy," he notes, "but it's also part of life, and you can't let death put your life on hold." Another point to Mr. St. James. "Now I don't mean to be blunt," he continues, of course intending to be as blunt as possible, "but I don't think you should be planning a funeral the same week you should be focusing on a set list for Nationals." Yet another point to Mr. St. James. Kurt and Finn, however, disagree with me, and gift Jesse with a matching set of stink-eyes. "You're serious?" I'm pretty sure Finn howls. "Actually," Jesse calmly replies, "yes, I am." And then he lets them have it: "Do you know what Vocal Adrenaline is doing right now? They're in their third week of twenty-four-hour-a-day rehearsals -- they're on an I.V. drip, that's how hard they're working. Do you know what happens when someone in Vocal Adrenaline dies during a number? They use him as a prop. Like Weekend At Bernie's." And I'll be ignoring the tonal whiplash that little speech represents as far as this evening's presentation is concerned to snicker and wish once again that they hire Jonathan Groff on to this show permanently. Unfortunately, Finn and his boring ass take this as their cue to reassert their dominance in the general Glee Club hierarchy, and they vow on behalf of the other children present to go through with Jean Sylvester's funeral, no matter what. Jesse St. James sighs. I'm right there with you, my friend. Commercial.
Hall. Will chases down Sue, who most reluctantly turns to face him, because Will is a gigantically over-earnest touchy-feely hippie-weirdo pill. He states how honored the Glee Club is to be handling Jean's arrangements. Sue ripostes that she only agreed on the condition that Frankenteen and "Lady Trousers" clean out Jean's room at The Home. "I like the idea of using your Glee Club as unpaid labor," Sue notes. There's more sop from Will that Sue just barely tolerates before she dons her sunglasses and spins off down the hall.