Cut to Sue's office. Coach Sylvester herself is offering a thoroughly unpregnant Becky her choice of expensive holiday gifts, but Becky's having none of it. "EPIC FAIL!" Becky screams. "I already got these, Coach! Gimme something I don't already have!" "Like what?" Coach Sylvester bites. "Like a hot date!" Becky petulantly howls. "Or a snowmobile!" Coach Sue sighs that Becky's not the only person she's got to shop for this year, describing her totally unforeseen Secret Santa pick in the most vivid of terms before musing, "What do you get the woman who's eaten everything?"

Cafeteria Kitchen. Coach Sylvester just happens to be ambling past the kitchen's open doors when Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel and her mother get into a very loud discussion about Christmas and how they're too poor to have one this year because Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel has "an" "eating" "disorder," so whatever cash they can manage to scrape together will have to go towards Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel's stupid boring new idiot psychiatry bills. "I don't make a lot of money," Mama Rose unnecessarily reminds her daughter. "Good thing Brittany just gave me this $25,000 watch, then!" Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel does not reply. Nor does Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel proceed to wonder, "Think we'd get a good price for it at the official Rolex retailer down in Dayton, or should take it to a jeweler in Chicago?" And why does Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel do neither of these things? Because Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel is a moron, and this show blows.

ANY-way, Mama Rose insists that all she needs from Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel this Christmas is a song, so Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel gifts her with an a cappella version of "The First Noël." Meanwhile, out in the hall, suddenly smitten Coach Sylvester gets this hysterical "Oh, CRAP!" look on her face and exits stage right.

Area Formerly Known As The Music Room. While various Cheerios perfect various routines on the floor and risers behind her, Coach Sylvester gazes ruefully at her magnificent holiday tree -- it's a 7000-year-old bristlecone pine she chopped down with her own two hands, don't you know -- and decides to sell it to a gentleman of her acquaintance with "contacts in the luxury toothpick market" so she might donate the proceeds to "a very important cause."