cassondra blake has lived in lima, ohio her entire life, that doesn't justify her actions but it's a got supporting factor. the dullness, the toxicity, the rough cut edges of lima heights has tampered her once vibrant personality.
one day she get...
the glee girls, minus rachel who was majorly stressing about her nyada audition in the week, were talking at cass and mercedes' locker. coach beiste walked past the girls, wearing a brand new black eye.
"aw, hell. looks like mr. beiste went all chris brown on mrs. beiste. what happened, coach, cooter put the smack-down on you 'cause you wouldn't let him be on top?"
cass smacked the cheerleader's arm, hissing at her, "santana that's not funny. i'm sorry coach."
the new cheerleading coach, who's also the synchronized swimming coach, heard the comment from her cheerleader and was infuriated, "what did you just say?"
"nothing. it was a joke."
"so, men hitting women is funny to you?"
santana quickly looked to cass, remembering that she was hit as a kid, "no...oh, please. we obviously don't think beiste was hit by anybody. i mean, look at her, she's a wall."
"let me tell you something. i'm coach roz washington. i'm an olympic champion, and i do not suffer fools! especially fools who think domestic violence is funny. i want your names. shannon! write these names down as placeholders. hatrack. asian horror movie. li'l oprah. rojo caliente. salsa caliente." coach roz turned to cass, "not you sweetheart, i like you. you're on my list now, girls."
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after puck's random outburst of alice cooper's "school's out", coaches sue, roz and beiste kept the girls in the choir room, "now i realize this room is america's number one destination for cheap, sappy moralizing, but your insensitive behavior is about to subject you to a whole new level of preachiness."
"is this about the comment that i made in the hallway earlier?" santana asked coach sue, confused to why six out of the eight glee girls were forced to stay.
"you bet your perfectly round ass it is."
mercedes scoffed at the pregnant coach, "coach sylvester, i hardly think you're one to preach on what we can and cannot joke about."
"yeah. you make fun of us all the time."
"sandbags, i admit i can be a bit abrasive," sue starts, making the girl's stifle a scoff. "and yes, i've fantasized about slapping each and every one of you square across the face with a sturdy, wet fish. but that doesn't mean you deserve it. no one deserves to get hit."
"coach sylvester, we already know that. yeah, and none of our guys would ever do anything like that. And if they did, we'd just get the hell out."
"i'd kill logan if he ever laid a hand on a woman after what he saw growing up," cass mumbled, tracing the scar on her arm that she earned from not dodging out of the way from one of michael's beer bottles.
coach roz didn't know how to take the brunette's comment, not knowing any of her personal story like sue, "i don't think the gravity of this is landing with you girls. i think that not one of you understand what violence in a home really feels like. when i was growing up, my aunt married a man that was nice to everybody. used to bring us presents when he came to visit and never had an unkind word to say to anybody. but at home, he had a temper. and that man started beating her. she'd lie, she'd make a joke out of it. she said she'd done this or that wrong. she'd tell my momma he was a good man and she had it coming. it took my aunt five years and a trip to icu to stop making excuses for that man and get a divorce."
