And we're back, and Mr. Schue is dressed up like a matador, and he's backed by an actual, honest-to-God mariachi band, and he proceeds to perform a mangled bilingual version of Elvis Presley's "A Little Less Conversation," and it bloooooooows. Not even the delightful dance stylings of Brit-Brit and Gaylord Weiner -- who arrive midway through to prance around the stage as the toreador's bulls -- can save this one, but the good news? Once it's over, we can finally start wrapping up this evening's various subplots. Thank God.
Naturally, most of the children present explode into paroxysms of joy and applause the instant the music ends, but Santana remains silent, the supremely pissy expression on her face closely matching the one on my own. Mr. Schue takes one look at her and, because the script says he must, he instantly realizes that she was the one who complained to Figgins about his crappy classroom skills. "That's not fair!" Mr. Schue protests. "Isn't it?" Santana ices back before rising to descend to the lip of the stage, where she pointedly wonders, "What did you want to be when you grew up -- I mean, why did you become a Spanish teacher?" A very long silence follows, after which Mr. Schue embarrassedly admits, "Because it was the only teaching position open at the time." Which...is not how these things work, but fuck it, because this episode's almost over, and screaming about that particular bit of idiocy just so isn't worth my time right now. Santana absorbs Mr. Schue's answer, then announces, "I want to remind you of something that an amazing teacher once taught me: 'Without passion, you can't succeed.'" The amazing teacher who imparted those sage words of wisdom? Why, Mr. Schue, of course -- and he still does, Santana allows, but only when he's teaching music. Will, finally defeated, sighs. Yawn.
Later, Will arrives in the teachers' lounge to find Coach Beiste enthusing over one of Emma's no longer amusing pamphlets -- this entitled "Taint Misbehavin'" -- that's "all about the importance of thoroughly washing your jockstrap." We're treated to a sideways smear I'll not be detailing, thank you very much, mainly because it includes a segment wherein The Leprechaun discusses his pubic hair, after which...
I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me for a moment. "The Leprechaun discusses his pubic hair." Shudder. EW! Hork.
Okay, I think it...no, wait: Full-body shudder.