Currently on Glee: A Previously sequence! Let's let the wackily voiced announcer man handle this, shall we? "Quinn told Finn, 'I'm pregnant!' but she didn't tell him that he's not the father -- Puck is. Can you believe that? But that's not the only baby drama -- Terry says she's pregnant but really, she's faking, and Mr. Schuester doesn't know. Also, Rachel quit the Glee Club because Sue got Sandy to come back to direct a musical, and that's what you missed on Glee!" Thanks for that, Wackily Voiced Announcer Man, but you forgot the best part of the episode: "Hand. Hand. Point to the finger. Hip. Head. Oh, sneak attack back to the ring! Comb through the hair. Slap. The. Butt!"

The camera catches Will taping a "William McKinley High Glee Club Invitational" poster to a hallway wall as the by now very familiar opening to this show's version of "Don't Stop Believing" hits the soundtrack, and soon enough, we've been shunted over to the music room, where Will's leading the recently expanded Glee Club in a full rehearsal of the piece, accompanied by my favorite non-speaking students on this or any other high-school-based show, The McKinley Jazz Ensemble. That bassist is fierce. But what's this? Quinn singing the female lead? Heresy! Do you think we should stone her? I think we should stone her. Fortunately for her sake, Quinn suddenly throws up in her mouth a little bit, and bolts for the ladies' to indulge in a morning sickness-induced hurl. Finn, quick to cover, blurts, "I think she just had a bad breakfast burrito!" but Kurt couldn't care less about Quinn's dietary habits, real or imagined, and instead plants his hands firmly upon his hips to ask, "Can we please talk about the giant elephant in the room?" "Your sexuality?" snarks Santana Lopez, of all people, but Kurt simply tosses her a supremely hairy side-eye as he corrects her. "Rachel," he stresses. "We can't do it without her." Will suggests layering Santana Lopes and Mercedes over Quinn's inadequate vocal stylings, but Artie immediately protests this proposed solution, noting that they might get away with it for the invitationals, but the sectionals and regionals are going to be a different story. "The wheelchair kid's right," my glorious husband Puck interjects. "That Rachel chick makes me want to light myself on fire, but she can sing." And how does Will answer all of this insubordination? By working his panties into a tremendous wad and tossing a massive hissy, of course. Smooth. After snapping about how everyone just needs to get the hell over Rachel, already, he pisses out an order for everyone to take five and flounces over to the grand piano, where he huffily takes a seat. Frankenteen, foolishly heedless of the tension now flaring out from Mr. Schue's unreasonably curly head, lurches over to bumble, "I don't wanna tell ya how to do your job, but with all the dancing around that Quinn's doing, I'm kinda worried about..." -- and here his voice dives into an exaggerated whisper -- "...the baby." To his credit, Will does not choose to make that Ticonderoga No. 2 in his hand disappear into Finn's eye, but instead offers to give T-T-T-Tina some of Quinn's verses before wondering if Finn might maybe possibly want to let his mother know what's going on in Quinn's uterus. Finn quietly notes that he'd rather handle it himself for the time being, as his mother has "enough to worry about," what with replenishing her supply of mom jeans and cunning little denim vests and such. Frankenteen lurches away while Will looks pensive, or something.