Moments later, having apparently thought quite hard about it indeed, Quinn presents Mr. Schue with her letter of resignation. Brit-Brit and Santana are there, too, but Quinn's the one who really matters, as evidenced by...
...the very next scene, in which Frankenteen lurches up to her locker to upbraid her for the mass resignation, and because they're both still acting like it was Mr. Schue who forced the issue by insisting she choose one or the other despite the fact that he never did anything of the kind, I'm going to ignore the argument that follows. Eventually, Lady Lips Von Beiberhausen wanders up from somewhere else to yell at Frankenteen for yelling at his girlfriend, and the two boys get into a really funny little shoving match, all "Bring it!" and "Brung!" and "That all you got?" and "You want some more?" until the suddenly appearing Mr. Schue leaps into the midst of the entirely girly fray to break it all up.
Auditorium. The jocks, both über and otherwise, have magically reapplied their complex and pricey latex prosthetics at some point during the last three seconds and are now in the midst of performing Karofsky's proposed warm-up number, which they magically orchestrated, mastered, costumed and choreographed while they were reapplying their complex and pricey latex prosthetics. But perhaps I should save my mockery for another moment, because this version of "She's Not There" by The Zombies is both beyond solid and the only in-episode number I actually enjoyed this evening. Then again, and as others before me have noted, it's pretty hard to fuck this song up. Of course, the limited melody's perfect for Cory Monteith's limited vocal range, so he doesn't sound like he's been Auto-Tuned all the way to hell and back, and that does tend to help things along immensely, doesn't it?
In any event, when the singing is over and the crazy zombie antics have ceased, everyone agrees that the whole thing was Capital-A Awesome, so the jocks, both über and otherwise, decide to strut their newfound stuff in badass slow-motion through McKinley's main hall, each still in full makeup. Unfortunately, the hockey-haired hockey team -- and let me repeat that: "the hockey-haired hockey team" -- isn't nearly as impressed with the fellows' accomplishment, and slushies the lot of them at the first opportunity.
Smash to the locker room showers, where Karofsky squeals like a pig as he tries and fails to rinse the burning sensation out of his eyes. The Glee Guys, of course, are all, "Pfft. You'll get used to it," but this attitude only serves to enrage Karofsky more, and he announces his intention to quit the glee club -- which, you know, he's not officially a member of in the first place -- effective immediately. On cue, Coach Beiste barges in to warn that quitting glee means he's off the team -- which: Whatever! -- so Karofsky calls her bluff and initiates a mass exodus of all the non-glee football players. BORED. SO VERY BORED.