April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. We enter to find Boring New Rachel, Sugar Motta, and Brit-Brit in the middle of their costume fittings with that poor, put-upon drudge Single-T Tina, and of course, there's a problem: Boring New Rachel can no longer squeeze into her wasp-waisted poodle skirt. "This fit yesterday!" Boring New Rachel pouts. "Maybe it's stress-bloating," Single-T Tina suggests, and no, it's not, because it's actually part of a nefarious plot hatched by Hateful New Quinn to send Boring New Rachel whirling into a shame spiral that ends with Boring New Rachel face-down in the toilet, yakking up chunky little pieces of her digestive tract in a desperate and futile attempt to drop another two or three pounds, as we learn once Hateful New Quinn arrives on the scene to smear us sideways into a flashback of Hateful New Quinn secretly altering the waistband on Boring New Rachel's skirt. Yawn. Because Boring New Rachel is a complete fucking moron, she totally believes Hateful New Quinn when the latter states that Boring New Rachel's "metabolism is grinding to a halt" due to all of those disgusting fat-pig genes Boring New Rachel inherited from her mother, and then, after blatantly insulting everyone present, Hateful New Quinn invites them all to a sleepover at her house -- including "Silence Of The Lambs" "ladyboy" Not-So-Unique. Because everyone present is also a complete fucking moron, they eagerly accept. I want every single one of these dipshits dead.
Moments later, Boring New Rachel has joined her mother in the cafeteria kitchen for a little chit-chat about some Very Weighty Issues, if you know what I mean, but because Boring New Rachel is too stupid to notice that all of her regular clothes still fit her, I'm going to ignore their entire conversation.
Teacher's Lounge. Sue's perusing the latest issue of Splits! magazine -- Becky's on the cover, by the by -- when Bloaty The Gravy Clown oozes into the room, much to Sue's immediate consternation, as the lounge is reserved for faculty members only. Frankenteen dutifully absorbs the torrent of insults Sue proceeds to rain down upon his dim little head, then attempts to apologize -- again -- for disparaging her unlikely infant. Needless to say, Sue refuses to accept his apology, then too-casually reveals that she's reserved The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion for Cheerios practice for the next two weeks, leaving Bloaty The Gravy Clown with no rehearsal venue for his "idiotic musical." You know, except for the choir room. And the vast open spaces of the school's improbable outdoor cafeteria. And the fucking parking lot, for Christ's sweet sake, and are we done here? Good.