...My Ancestral Homeland? Excellent. Santana Lopez stands at the barred windows of The Improbably Bohemian Loft, glaring at the snow falling outside as her voiceover crabs, "My first real week in New York, and I'm snowbound in Bushwick with a bunch of musical theater queens." Oh, ow. That poor woman. You have all of my sympathy, here, Santana. Of course, you generally have all of my sympathy everywhere, but nevertheless. OW.
Behind her, St. Gay Of Lima and Meth Head Grandpa amuse absolutely no one by throwing lines from Downton Abbey at each other until Santana's Voiceover observes, "It's like Eli Roth decided to make a gay horror movie, and this is the scene right before we all eat each other." Santana crosses from the windows to the kitchen table to attempt small talk with Meth Head Grandpa, but it's really just an excuse for her to ask of St. Gay, "Are you guys dating? 'Cause at Mr. Schue's bomb of a wedding, you and Blaine, like..." "Shut up!" St. Gay snaps before icily reminding Santana that he and The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway are allowing her to live in their apartment rent-free. "Where is Rachel, anyways?" Santana loudly wonders. "Giving that living mannequin a bikini wax?" Meth Head Grandpa helpfully exposits that Rachel's filthy whore of a boyfriend is "working" at the moment, and that The Horrible Hooker herself is currently occupying the loft's sole bathroom. "Let's hope she's embracing her inner bulimic," Santana smiles by way of response, "because let me tell you: Homegirl has been looking extremely pumpkin-like, and not just 'cause of the Tan-In-A-Can." Unable to bear any more of this in silence, Old Idiot Rachel bursts from the john to blurt, "Okay, you have to move out, because this is our sanctuary, and by 'our,' I mean mine and Kurt's and..." There's more, but you get the gist, I assume.
Eventually, St. Gay breaks through the blithering long enough to order the gals to retract their claws, and there are mutterings involving Fake Drama School In New York cancelling classes due to the blizzard, and would anyone like to indulge in a little movie marathon? But of course! Santana's already gone through the available DVDs and suggests either Knocked Up, Rosemary's Baby, or She's Having A Baby, all of which Old Idiot Rachel immediately shoots down, for what Santana and I both hope are obvious reasons. "Oh, really?" Kurt teases in a hilariously bitchy sing-song. "Not even She's Having A Baby? 'Cause you always cryyyyy at the end when Elizabeth McGovern has the baaaaay-by!" Hee! "I'm not in the mood!" Old Idiot Rachel all but shrieks, but that's okay, because St. Gay Of Lima would rather watch Baz Luhrmann's Moulin Rouge!, anyway. Santana looks ready to throttle someone, but unfortunately, we must first pass through this evening's first commercial break before she gets a chance to do so.