Terri tucks Will in and fluffs his pillows. (That's not a euphemism. At least, not yet.) She puts a cold compress on his forehead and tells him that she still loves him. And she claims that she was always good at taking care of him. Will: "That's 'cause you like me best when I'm weak." Terri: "Maybe. That's what my therapist says." I don't know if that therapist is an absolute fool for taking on the untreatable Terri Schuester, or if he (or she) is a genius for lining up a lifetime stream of income. Terri starts with the baby talk and tells Will to roll over and pull his pants down so she can take his temperature. And then she coats a thermometer with Vaseline as she keeps referring to Will as "Baby." But not in the sexy way. In the disgusting mother-infant roll-play way. Will tells Terri that he's not in the mood to play sick baby. Which is a disturbing glimpse of their sex life that I, for one, did not need to see. Will throws her out. But before she leaves, she throws him the DVD case for Singing in the Rain. Terri: "We were together sixteen years, you think I don't remember what movie makes you feel better when you're sick?" And with that she storms out of the room. I'd be a little nervous, but I'm 99% certain that Will doesn't keep a rabbit in the house, so everything should be okay.

Cafeteria. Kurt and Mercedes are waiting in line. Kurt tells her that he's shaking, and he's not sure whether his tremors are caused by low blood sugar or rage at Rachel. Smear sideways to the music room, where Rachel writes a giant "ME" on the white board and asks the assembled club members for suggestions on what solos she should sing at Sectionals. Santana leaps up to take her out, but the others hold her back. I'm just going to assume that everyone is feeling a little feverish this week and that these flashback scenes are all tinged by their monkey-pox-induced madness.