Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. Single-T Tina -- obviously still nursing that titanic and spectacularly ill-advised crush of hers -- is in the middle of inviting Dreamboat Blaine on a little shopping excursion later that afternoon when the doors at the far end of the hall swing wide to reveal a mostly-naked Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen. "Oh, sweet merciful Lord," Blaine groans as Yello's "Oh Yeah" kicks in on the soundtrack, because of course. "What are you doing?" Dreamboat Blaine bleats, perhaps allowing his gaze to linger a little too long on the extremely low-slung waistband of Sam's board shorts. Lady Lips offers a far-too-nonchalant reply, so Dreamboat Blaine ventures to inquire, "Are you sure you're not...overcompensating a little?" "Overcompensating for what?" Lady Lips immediately shoots back, and long story short, everyone's heard about Sam's abysmal SAT scores because none of these fools has anything better to talk about, apparently. "You know what, dude?" Lady Lips frantically jabbers. "Like, if you choose to be jealous of my hardcore rockin' bod, that's on you!" "For the record," Single-T Tina interjects, her normally companionable tone quickly taking on the sort of vicious edge most commonly displayed by the most batshit of Internet fangirls, "Blaine has an awesome body and a perky and delicious behind that looks like it got baked to perfection by some sort of master chef!" Sam's eyes widen in fear. Hee. Blaine insists he's simply got Sam's best interests at heart, but Lady Lips will hear none of this, and he instead orders Dreamboat Blaine to "put down the Haterade and come to [his] seminar" that afternoon in the boys' locker room. "It's a one-hour course," Lady Lips exposits, "entitled Modern Centerfold: Techniques At Work For Today's Hot Young Posers." "Three-thirty," he instructs, adding, "No chicks!"