In any event, the number ends with Chenoweth practically going cross-eyed as she hits one of her patented glory notes, and it's just a tiny bit annoying, but it's appropriate for the character, so I'm fine with it. The spotlight fades, returning that unnatural orange glow to April's skin, and she slowly descends from her Cabaret-induced reverie to gauge her audience's reaction. The Glee Club is agog. Even my glorious husband is sitting there with his mouth agape in amazement. "Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!" Orange April sasses, pleased with the response, and as she saunters triumphantly from the room, Kurt whips out his pocket square to hastily dry the single perfect tear that had rolled down his cheek. HA!
Later that week, Orange April biffs an easy question in Will's Spanish class, but she gamely cracks wise at her error, eliciting a round of giggles from her fellow students. Will's not nearly as amused as Orange April's classmates, and once the bell's rung, he calls her to his desk for a chat. "Sorry," she apologizes, "the old noodle just ain't what she used to be -- I huffed a lot of upholstery cleaner in the nineties." Will just nods his head at the crazy drunk lady, because what he actually wants to talk about are the Glee kids' still-present reservations regarding Orange April's place in the club. "You draw a lot of attention to yourself," he explains, "and they're embarrassed enough as it is." He suggests she take some time to win them over, and we all know what that means: Montage!
"You Make My Dreams," that timeless classic by Hall And Oates, hits the soundtrack as we zip forward to Orange April pouring Kurt a shot of courage from her thermos. "It smells like my aunt Mildred," Kurt protests. "Jess drank it!" Orange April slurs. Pinkie out, Kurt samples his cup's contents. His verdict? "Sweet, with a bit of an afterburny taste." "Good Chablis should always have a little bite," Orange April counsels. She prescribes a few swigs every morning before school, and before Kurt knows it, he'll have all the self-confidence he needs to be himself. "That's fantastic!" Kurt wows, but it only gets better, my sweet little baby gay. "So's my vintage collection of primo muscle magazines," Orange April grins, waving a three-inch-high stack of Bob Mizer's finest beneath Kurt's pert nose. Moments later, Kurt stands in front of Mr. Schuester, thermos and magazines clutched to his chest as he announces, "I've changed my mind. April should stay. I worship her." Hee.