"I have tried to keep this to myself," Santana begins, pausing the movie while rising from her chair to address them, "but I will be silent no longer: That Brody character is a freaking psycho." Kurt, instantly intrigued: "Go on..." Hee.
"When I first met him," Santana obliges, "I totally thought he was weird -- he smelled all talcum-y, like a Cabbage Patch Doll? -- and then he said that I wasn't a real New Yorker until I had my first makeover, and I was, like, 'What does that even mean -- like, who are you?'" "Brody's a sweetheart," Meth Head Grandpa interjects. "That's what I told myself!" Santana readily agrees. "I said, 'So what if he's completely hairless and made out of plastic -- I'm gonna look past the fact that he probably has a disgusting porn star landing strip, and I'm gonna give Lars And The Real Boy one more chance, but then? I found this." At that, Santana withdraws a wad of cash from her pocket and waves it around in the air. "Twelve hundred dollars in cash," she emphasizes. "When did you find that?" Old Idiot Rachel wonders. "Last night," Santana casually admits, "when I was rooting through all the pockets and drawers in this apartment."
Cut to a flashback of Santana rooting through all the pockets and drawers in that apartment, even going so far as to burrow through the mountains of crap beneath Rachel's bed. It's far more amusing than it has any right to be.
And once we've cut back to the present, Old Idiot Rachel howls, "You went through all of our stuff?" "Yeah," Santana shrugs. "It's a thing I do." Hee. "That's completely unacceptable!" St. Gay Of Lima protests. "Oh, okay," Santana replies. "I like how you guys pretend to be all 'accepting' about everything, but when your friend suddenly shows up in your home, moves in, and goes through all your stuff, you're offended?" HA! "Just because he has a little money on him," Meth Head Grandpa interrupts, "doesn't mean that he's a psycho." "That's what I thought!" Santana agrees, again. "I mean, who cares if he's terrified of banks? 'Cause if I were made out of plastic, I'd be scared of a lot of things, too -- open flames, barbecues -- but then, I found this!" Santana pulls a pager from her other pocket, explains to Kurt and Rachel what a pager actually is, and proceeds to insist upon the following: "There is only one type of person in this world that carries cash and a pager. Your friend Brody? Is a drug dealer." No, Santana, their friend Brody is a WHOOOOOOOOOORE! But you weren't around last time for that scene, so I'll forgive you. Needless to say, St. Gay Of Lima and The Horrible Hooker gape and gawp at Santana's incorrect accusation, but before we get a chance to delve more fully into their respective reactions, we must first shuttle back to...