...The Celibacy Club, where Miss Pillsbury's welcoming the club's newest member, Puck. "Are you lost, Noah?" Rachel ices. "You don't belong here," Quinn condescendingly agrees, noting he's "the biggest French whore of them all." Puck blathers something about how his abortive sex tape changed his life, but it doesn't really matter, because Miss Pillsbury's now taking this opportunity to inform them all of their impending Glee Club performance. Puck's down with that, but he does call a point of order to state, "While three chicks and me is just a typical Saturday night in the Puckerman bedroom, it's not the best balance for singing -- we need at least one more dude." Miss Pillsbury's got that covered.

Auditorium, and this is just beautifully, brilliantly ridiculous. Up on the stage, in front of a triple screen featuring lovingly rendered photographs of cherry pies, The Celibacy Club plus Miss Pillsbury's husband, Hot Carl, perform a terrifically wrongheaded version of Starland Vocal Band's "Afternoon Delight," much to the snickering amusement of just about everybody in the audience save Artie, who's appears to be gobsmacked by the sheer idiocy of it all, and Brittany, who's too busy grooving out in her chair to notice anything untoward about the performance. I think what kills me the most about it -- aside from the slices of meat pie that briefly replace the cherries on the backdrop, of course -- are the perfectly awful floral-print maxi-skirts on Miss Pillsbury and the girls, probably because I'm old enough to remember people wearing them unironically the first time around. Hateful. Beautifully, brilliantly hateful.