And when it's over, Mr. Schue immediately gives her a round of applause while assuring her it was all "fantastic." Jesse, meanwhile, leans in to his microphone and intones, "Thanks so much for coming in," before settling back in his seat with a definite sense of finality. "That's all you have to say?" Santana splutters, incredulous. "You spent the entire performance scribbling notes!" Mr. Schue glances down at Jesse's legal pad, upon which Jesse has drawn a rather large kitty with kicky little bangs and a lustrous set of eyelashes. "If you simply must know," Jesse allows, "I was writing down that I don't think that your performance went very deep into the emotional truth of the song." Hee. Santana threatens to go "all Lima Heights" on Jesse St. James's ass, but she ends up stomping off into the wings in a fury while Eddie Munster wafts in from the other side of the stage. A few of the backing musicians switch around as Kurt hits his mark to announce he'll be singing "Some People" from Gypsy, and if he's not going to belt it the way it's meant to be belted, I don't want to hear it, so:
Wow, his pants are ugly. They've got, like, this bizarre mix of bleached-out human skulls and sunflowers on a grey background, and the seat's so ill-fitting, it looks like he's wearing a diaper. And that vest? Don't get me started. What's the point of the cut-out back? How do you get all those strappy ties fixed just the right way without your own personal dresser fussing around back there? And are we really doing that High-Top Doc Martens In Fun Party Colors thing again? Really? I suppose the shirt's nice, what little I can see of it, but where the hell does he find this crap in Lima, Ohio? And how is Burt's auto repair shop still in business when Kurt's blowing all of the receipts on his fugly-ass clothes? By the way, word on the street is that Chris Colfer came up with his own choreography for this number, and if it was meant to look both hopelessly amateurish and completely inappropriate, then he succeeded, especially with that drag-queen death-drop at the end, there.
And when it's over, Mr. Schue offers him an enthusiastic round of applause while Jesse St. James leans in carefully towards his microphone and delicately inquires, "You know that song was meant to be sung by a woman, right?" Kurt is aware of that fact, thank you very much, and he points out that New Directions dealt with the whole "boys singing girls' songs" issue last season. "Then you must know," Jesse deliciously condescends, "that that song was done to great fanfare by such Broadway legends as Merman, LuPone, Bernadette?" "Those are some awfully big heels to fill," he correctly notes, settling back into his chair, "and I'm just not quite sure that you nailed it." He didn't, Jesse. He didn't nail it at all, because wee wispy Kurt Hummel is ever going to nail a song like "Some People," ever. Kurt Hummel attempting songs like "Some People" on this show has begun to remind me of Fritzi Wagner doing "The Ladies Who Lunch" in Camp, only I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be laughing at Kurt. Well, not anymore, at any rate.