First, though, it's back to New York City to watch as The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway and St. Gay Of Lima fly through the door of a suspiciously spotless tattoo parlor to kick-start some wacky hijinks of their own, as they promised us all the way back before the last commercial break. Old Idiot Rachel's idea of doing "something crazy," you see, involves permanently inking her skin with a hastily-considered design she's all but guaranteed to regret once she sobers up into actual adulthood in a couple of years, and she's dragged St. Gay and his bottle of limoncello along for the ride. The two swig from the booze whilst prattling about their various options until the establishment's supposedly intimidating proprietor arrives at the counter to escort these two shallow dimwits into this evening's next commercial break.
My Ancestral Homeland. Aftermath. It's the following morning, and as St. Gay Of Lima staggers from his sleeping nook towards the kitchen, Old Idiot Rachel greets him with a far-too-perky, "Good morning, Sunshine!" that St. Gay barely has enough strength to acknowledge. We're quite seriously meant to believe, you see, that St. Gay is now brutally hungover from the "two shots of limoncello" he ingested last night, and Glee can kiss my ass. In any event, the point of the scene that follows is this: St. Gay thought he got "It Gets Better" tattooed on his right shoulder blade, but alas! The thing actually reads, "It's Get Better." Wah. Wah. Waaaaaaaaaaaah! Old Idiot Rachel insists they head back to last night's tattoo parlor to have the design corrected, but St. Gay just frazzles, "Show me yours -- maybe he spelled 'Streisand' wrong, and we can be maimed together." Here, The Horrible Hooker is forced to admit she didn't go through with it after all. D'OH! "I was thinking about all of my favorite idols," she weakly explains, "and none of them have tattoos." "I'll go back with you," she promises, trying desperately to make amends, "and we can get your money back!" "What I want back," St. Gay shrieks, "I can't get: My innocence, my pride, and my unblemished alabaster skin!" And with that, he flounces back to his sleeping nook in a state of high dudgeon. Drama queen.
Meanwhile, back at McKinley, Unique nervously pushes against the door to the boys' lavatory. This time, instead of finding some wildly improbable rave awaiting her on the other side, she gets a trio of transphobic jocks who snatch off her wig and give it a shampoo. So much for The Great McKinley Bathroom Gender Riot Of 2013, I suppose. Really, why the hell did they bother with that earlier sequence if Unique's storyline this evening was actually leading her to this point? Whatever. This show's been of such poor quality thus far this season, I'm beginning to wonder if I should even be questioning this kind of stupidity anymore. Besides, this setup does feed directly into what ended up being the best number of the night, so it does have that going for it, at least.