Hall. Brittany wanders past in slow-motion, once again lost in some approximation of "thought," when she notices -- much to her pleasure, I should note -- a brand-new unicorn-themed campaign poster extolling St. Gay Of Lima's numerous unicorn-themed virtues. Kurt calls her over to admit he's finally accepted himself for who he really is -- again, for, like, the seventeenth goddamned time in the last two and a half years -- and he invites her back to his place for another strategy session. Unfortunately, Brit-Brit must decline St. Gay's gracious offer, for she and Santana have already scheduled a strategy session of their own. No, a real strategy session, not another lady-loving romp atop Brittany's duet. You see, Brit-Brit's taken Santana's earlier ego-elevating words to heart, and she's decided to run for the student council herself. "'Cause, you know," she explains, "the last six Senior Class presidents have all been guys, and look where that's got us -- you know, teetering on a double-dip recession?" "Besides," she confidently continues, "I'm also a unicorn." "Well," she wavers, "maybe a bicorn." But that doesn't matter, because what does matter is the fact that she's "starting to believe in [her] own magic." She sincerely bids her new rival good luck, and brightly promises to see him at the debate. St. Gay Of Lima is crushed. CRUSHED, I tell you.
Auditorium. Artie summons Dreamboat Blaine to the stage for his audition, and Blaine nervously enters from the wings to offer them his rendition of "Something's Coming" from -- wait for it -- West Side Story. With little ado, the house orchestra kicks in with the opening vamp, and soon enough, Dreamboat Blaine's launching himself into a thoroughly enjoyable performance of the song, and I suppose this is the point where I might as well bring up something neither this episode nor any of the lovely and talented people on the forum boards thought to cover: The original, universally acclaimed Tony was gay. And not even Rock Hudson gay, either. (That's him singing in the link above, by the way. I changed it from version in the recaplet, and if that link disappears, you should still be able to hear a sample here.) So, you know. Fuck you, Glee. Not that I'm giving twee little precious St. Gay Of Lima a pass on this one, mind you, because he'd always, always be miserably miscast in the role of Tony, but still: Fuck you.