On My Way

Episode Report Card
Demian: F | 5 USERS: B-
F Me Gently With A Chainsaw

Saint Agnes Hospital. St. Gay Of Lima enters Karofsky's room, bearing an exquisitely-arranged floral tribute, and I realize this recap is running way, way short as it is, but I just can't with this bullshit. Trust me, it's not the actors' fault -- both Chris Colfer and Max Adler deserve their due for playing the hell out of this scene -- it's that I simply don't care about The Tribulation Of Saint Dave. At all. So, you know, so much for the shameless bit of audience manipulation they're trying to pull on me with this supposedly touching reconciliation scene, in which Kurt and Dave are finally able to interact with each other as equals, or whatever the hell is going on here, because it's not working, and it's not because I'm outraged at the very idea of Kurt becoming friends with his former tormenter, as so many of the most insistently vociferous on the Internet seem to be, it's because I simply do not care. And so, long story short, after the two chit-chat with each other for a bit, and after both have shed many photogenic tears for the Emmy voters' benefit and delectation, and after Kurt leads Dave through a visualization exercise that's either incredibly sweet in its hopefulness or incredibly insulting in its lack of specificity, the former enemies' interaction ends with Karofsky asking, "You said last week you want to be friends?" St. Gay Of Lima nods. "I'd like that," Karofsky smiles, and that settles it: If I ever have to recap him again, I'm calling him Martha Dumptruck.

Allen County Courthouse. Sue approaches Will in the hall, congratulates him on his totally unsurprising Regionals win, and quite genuinely offers her assistance for Nationals. Why her sudden turnaround? Those massive injections of pregnancy-preserving bovine hormones, of course. Like you really had to ask. Though now that I'm thinking about it, I fully expect Sue to give birth to a calf when the time comes.

Elsewhere, Burt Hummel, Denim Carole, and the eminent Messrs. Berry are having a massive collective last-minute panic attack because their idiot children are actually going through with their stupid wedding. Here's an idea, geniuses: Idiot Rachel is underage, so don't give your fucking consent to the marriage. The geniuses in question, however, refuse to listen to my perfectly reasonable advice, so I'm going to refuse to listen to the rest of their dumb conversation. See how that works?

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