Cut to Santana Lopez graciously accepting the role in question. Of course. Of course. "Are you sure?" Artie squeaks, noting, "We open tomorrow, and we just gave you the script!" Santana assures him she was born to play the part, and adds that she's quite conveniently known it by heart since she was an infant. The other children currently assembled in the music room are way stoked, with the notable exception of Single-T Tina, who just got unceremoniously screwed out of yet another leading role. D'OH!
Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High, opening night. No, I can't figure out this episode's twisted internal timeline, either, so let's all agree to drop the subject forever, okay? Excellent. In any event, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway and St. Gay Of Lima presently round the far corner arm-in-arm to reminisce their collective way toward The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, and they're soon enough joined by Mercedes, who insists upon dragging them backstage so they can say hello to everyone.
Meanwhile, Boring New Rachel's deep in the throes of a last-minute crisis because she's convinced she somehow added another two inches -- two motherfucking inches -- to her waistline overnight, and Boring New Rachel's officially too stupid to live, so let's wave goodbye to her dumb, boring ass as Hateful New Quinn drags it off to The Novak for a quick little refreshing purge and focus instead on... Yeah, no. The Horrible Hooker and St. Gay have just run into Dreamboat Blaine and Bloaty The Gravy Clown, and as I still don't care about their eternally annoying romantic links to each other -- especially now that their relationships are dunzo -- I have zero problems skipping through this scene, too, to land on...
...the curtain opening for Dreamboat Blaine's turn as Teen Angel, in which he croons his version of "Beauty School Dropout" to the divine Sugar Motta as the vividly-coiffed Frenchy. And as it's yet another exacting recreation of the movie version, I find myself bored nearly to tears. Though I suppose it would be remiss of me were I not to mention those couple of beats wherein Dreamboat Blaine's nearly thrown off his game thanks to a pair of surreptitious glances he steals of a stony-faced and martyrlicious St. Gay in the auditorium. So, you know, consider them mentioned. Naturally, Dreamboat Blaine recovers nicely from these momentary lapses, and the number's end is of course met with an enthusiastic round of applause from the audience.