Music Room. Frankenteen's there with the once-again-mute members of The McKinley Jazz Ensemble and Idiot Rachel enters and snoooooooooooore. They chat at each other and then Frankenteen launches himself into a preposterous rendition of The Bee Gees' "More Than A Woman" -- preposterous because there's no way in hell that aggravating falsetto is really his -- and the whole thing quickly morphs into a fantasy dance number incorporating all of the other current teenaged couples on the show and while it's certainly nice to see the queer pairings presented as equals to the straight ones, the primary focus remains on Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel and as I believe I've noted many, many times before: I DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM AT ALL.
And when it's over, Frankenteen dismisses the typically-mute members of The McKinley Jazz Ensemble so he can drag Idiot Rachel over to a chair in order to chat at her some more and long story short, Frankenteen's decided to follow Idiot Rachel to New York after all. He's even applied to The Actors Studio and everything, despite the fact that The Actors Studio is not a school, but whatever -- WHATEVER -- and are we done here? Excellent.
Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High. St. Gay Of Lima and Mercedes process through recent events until Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen approaches to drag Mercedes off to yet another vacant classroom and remember that video he recorded of her "Disco Inferno" performance? He uploaded it to YouTube, as "Mercedes Inferno." Unfortunately, Lady Lips left the comments open. Fortunately, this is a fantasy TV show, so aside from one negative remark left by a gentleman who saw the title and expected something like this, the messages read like a bunch love letters to Miss Jones. A bunch of poorly-spelled and atrociously-articulated love letters, of course, but love letters nonetheless. Needless to say, Mercedes is smitten. "You ain't no skim milk, baby," Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen smiles sweetly, "you're cream rising to the top." Mercedes smiles back at him, they mack their way into this evening's final commercial break and you'll pardon me, I'm sure, but doesn't she still have that other boyfriend to worry about? No, wait a minute -- never mind. I just remembered that I totally don't give a shit.