And wouldn't you know it? It totally does. While at first they merely allude to Will's solution back in the music room, where Coach Beiste and Mr. Schue have reassembled their warring factions, it quickly becomes clear the adults plan to have all of the children -- even the ones who should be spending the precious minutes involved back in the locker room preparing for the rest of the game -- prancing about on the fifty-yard line in place of the Cheerios at halftime. To their immense credit, the children vociferously object to this bit of mind-bending stupidity, but Mr. Schue shuts them down with, "We don't have a choice -- if we don't do it, there's no halftime show." Lauren, God love her, speaks for me when she wonders aloud, "And this is a problem because...?" Coach Beiste blathers that the situation represents an opportunity for them, and the überjocks instantly leap on that assertion to agree that it'll be an opportunity for everyone to humiliate themselves, and it goes on like that for a very long while until Mr. Schue shouts everybody else down to announce his grand plan for the halftime routine: A mash-up of that dead child molester's "Thriller" and something called "Heads Will Roll" by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Brittany, Santana and Quinn, of course, will be allowed to choose which event they'll attend, but participation is mandatory for everyone else, and with that, Coach Beiste barks, "We're goin' to Zombie Camp!" Actually, I'm pretty sure we're goin' to the next commercial break, but then again, what the hell do I know?
After the break, we return to find the children lurching about the stage in the McKinley auditorium under the watchful eyes of Coach Beiste and Mr. Schue. After they all master some semblance of a routine, the kiddies head off for a zombie makeup session (which would be a session wherein they learn to apply zombie makeup to themselves, not a session in which they... oh, never mind), with the notable exception of Karofsky, who's been called aside by an especially furrowed Mr. Schue for a little chat. BORED. Long story short, Mr. Schue urges Karofsky to take all of the energy the latter's been using to bully his fellow students and channel it into something more productive. Like, you know, show choir. And as The Plaintive Piano Of Nascent Redemption Arcs plonks away in the background, Karofsky looks suitably, um, chastened? Heartened? Gassy? Something like that.