And once again, it actually is kind of awesome, even though I can't figure out if this entire performance is happening in Rachel's head, or if it's some sort of strange fantasy sequence she's sharing telepathically with her guests, or if it's part reality for the three old Glee Gals and part something they've made up, but whatever. I mean, really, it's so nice to have these three performing together on a song I don't totally hate that I'm not going to overthink it.
So: Basically, Rachel bops along a Fake Drama School In New York hallway for a couple dozen bars or so until she ends up in last week's hipster rehearsal space, where she joins Santana and Quinn for the remainder of the number, and the camera goes all spinny, and a topless male backup band magically appears behind them at randomly selected intervals, and when it's over, Rachel warmly expresses her gratitude for Santana and Quinn's intervention. "No regrets?" Quinn asks. "None!" Rachel effervescently insists. And at that, she offers to treat her two guests to dinner. The visiting ladies waste little time accepting this kind invitation, with Santana pointedly noting, "I'm in no rush to get back to Kentucky." "In fact," she continues, all but winking directly at the audience as she does so, "I think I could get used to New York -- it's more my speed." So, she'll be moving into The Improbably Bohemian Loft next week, then? Good to know.
Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Subplot. Dreamboat Blaine enters some random McKinley classroom to find a dispirited Lady Lips slumped over one of his still-blank essays. "Ready to write?" Dreamboat Blaine asks. "No!" Lady Lips mopes. "I hate the college application process! It's for tools!" "The college application process is awesome and for winners," Dreamboat Blaine patiently counters, "like you!" To prove this, Dreamboat Blaine whips out his trusty laptop, upon which he plays a video of various Glee Clubbers extoling the many virtues of Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, including Single-T Tina, Artie, Santana Lopez, Brit-Brit, Bloaty The Gravy Clown, Mercedes, and the strange otherworldly cocoon that's taken up residence on Mercedes's head. A single manly tear trickles down Lady Lips's cheek, and he rises from his slouch to wrap Dreamboat Blaine in a grateful embrace. For his part, Dreamboat Blaine carefully angles his pelvis outwards so as not to alarm his emotionally fragile but otherwise remarkably sturdy young friend. Commercials.