So here's what you missed on glee;
Regionals is coming up and Jesse's left the club, and though it seems like he might be a spy, he also seems to really like Rachel, which is confusing. Quinn's preggo and feels that she's totally alone, and Sue won't leave Will alone, and the poor guy's trying to get over divorcing his terrible wife Terri.
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"Is it just me, or does it feel like we have a real shot at regionals next month?" Mercedes asked happily. "The Ohio show choir chat rooms have all been buzzing about how Vocal Adrenaline has lost a step." Kurt nodded, "I agree. The judges know all of their tricks and now that we have Jesse, they've lost their best performer." Y/n shook his head, "Wait, Jesse's still here? I was hoping he left. He's like a dolphin; cute until they're playing volleyball with your corpse." Rachel rushed to the group of friends in a panic. "You guys have to come to the auditorium. It's an emergency!" The five of them quickly followed after her, joining the rest of the club in the school's auditorium. "Jesse?" Rachel said confused as he stood proudly in front of Vocal Adrenaline. "What are you doing up there with them?" She asked. "I've transferred back to Carmel High, Rachel. I'm sorry that it's come to this, but you guys were awful to me.
"Wow, he switched teams. What a surprise." Y/n said sarcastically, wincing as Quinn slammed her heeled foot onto his toes. Jesse shook his head, "You never accepted me, you never listened to my clearly superior ideas." Finn shrugged, "Why are you here? In our auditorium." "The blogs and chatrooms say that we're finished and that you guys are ripe to topple us. We just wanted to show you a little something that we came up with a few days ago, to see if you agree with that assessment."
Jesse smugly smiled at the New Directions as his show choir team left the stage. "Damn dolphin," Y/n gritted through his teeth as the energy around him flattened to the monotone self pitty that they had when the club first started.
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"It's a Carmel High tradition. They psych out the competition a few weeks before the big show." Artie said, seemingly unbothered by the show of talent. "They call it a funkification. Meaning they show us what they've got, and we spiral into a deep black funk." Finn nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, we used to do the same to other football teams. Y'know try to get inside their head before the big game, pull little pranks to intimidate them." Puckerman nodded, "Yeah, well the difference was that our football team sucked. Those guys are golden." Y/n shrugged, "Well a deep black funk is more emotion than they've ever put into a performance. It's all surface level, they're like porcelain dolls." Tina shook her head, "Why do your comparisons always have to be so strange? I mean, you're right, but it's weird." "I'll join you guys in a minute, Y/n said as he stopped, "I gotta get some stuff out of my locker."
Y/n gave a parting wave as he reached his locker. "Didn't you hear? Supposedly, he punched Finn Hudson in the face. Twice!" Y/n sighed as he grabbed his books. "There's no way that's true." One of the blonde cheerleaders replied to her friend as she leaned against an unused locker. "I mean, some glee dork managed to land not one, but two hits on a freaking quarterback? I'm sorry but I just don't buy it." The other cheerleader who began the gossip giggled, "Yeah, but he's a hot glee dork. And who knows what he's hiding under those baggy band tee's." The third girl in the trio chuckled, "Oh, I think we all got a sneak peek during the car wash fundraiser Sue had us help out with." Y/n slammed his locker shut with his elbow as he shoved his books into his backpack. He paused wide-eyed to see the three staring at him, and it was almost scary how they practically stared him down.
"Hi," He quickly said before practically running to his next class once they waved at him. Don't get it wrong, Y/n defiantly found the Cheerios hot, you'd have to be blind or gay to think otherwise. But in the end, they scared the shit out of him and he wasn't going to take his chances intermingling too much with that group. Besides, he wasn't a dumbass. It didn't take him to long to figure out that the wannabe unholy trinity was gossiping about him. Sure he was flattered, but mostly unsettled that they were talking about him practically to his face. He stopped in his tracks as he reached the club room a bit behind the other members. "Holy shit," He said as he looked over the toilet paper covering the room. "I feel so violated," Tina said as they made a sizable chunk into taking down the tp. "It's like someone broke into our home."
Mr Schuester sighed, having joined them somewhere in between cleaning up. "Look, it was just a lame little prank. And the fact that they're trying to get to us means maybe we got 'em spooked." Mercedes shook her head as she dropped practically three rolls of toilet paper into the trash can the janitor had so kindly lent them. "Uh uh, Mr Schue. They aren't afraid of anything. That number they did was fantastic. You know, which doesn't make any sense. They had all that equipment. How did they even get in?" She asked with a shrug. "Oh, I gave 'em all keys," Coach Sylvester said as she proudly entered the club room. "Helped them do a sound check over the weekend. Hey, this way, fellas." She explained as she led one of the students holding one of her many trophies through the room. "Let's punch out this wall here. That'll open up the space a little bit."
Schue glared at his fellow teacher, "Sue, what are you doing?" He asked angrily. "I can't talk to you now, William. Drafting class is helping me redecorate around here." She shifted her footing, "You see, I have nationals over the weekend, and I expect to return with a comically large first-place trophy for which I have absolutely no room in my trophy case. As soon as you hurry up and lose at regionals, this choir room will become my official trophy annex." She turned her attention to the Drafting students, "You know what it has to look like? Elvis' gold record room at Graceland. Except I'll be wanting far fewer morbidly obese white women waddling around and crying." William took a step forward as his students dejectedly watched their interaction. "Sue, get out of my room."
Said blonde woman looking past him to the teens in the room. "Glee clubbers, for those of you whose hearing has not been damaged by massive doses of acutane, listen up. In a few weeks, glee club will be finished. Now how do I know that? Well, I recently checked the odds with my Vegas bookie, who told me that your forty-to-one underdogs at regionals. YOu are going to lose, and your dreams will be crushed." Will's gaze shifted from Sue's face to the trophy in her hands. "Sue, can I see your trophy?" Sue smiled, "Sure, Will. Hope and dream." He took the expensive metal-plated plastic carefully before throwing it into the wall, causing it to shatter to pieces. "You dropped your trophy, Sue." He said as the Cheerios coach rigidly turned to face him. "You know, for me trophies are like herpes. You can try to get rid of them, but they just keep coming. You know why? Sue Sylvester has hourly flare-ups of burning, itchy, highly contagious talent. Enjoy your last few days here. This room is mine."
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"All right, guys, today I want to talk about regrets. Who has some?" William prompted as he entered the choir room. "Giving my heart to Jesse, just to have it crushed like the stage floor at a performance of Stomp." Rachel replied as she sulked at the piano. "Thinking 'trust me' was a sensible birth control option." Quinn said as she rolled her eyes and gave a subtle glare over at Puck. "We all have them," Mr Schuester nodded. "I just finalized my divorce." Rachel's head shot up off of the piano top. "I regret living in a relationship that wasn't working. Letting her put me in these deep funks and not fighting back." Santana shook her head, "Besides creeping us out, why are you telling us this?" She asked while she lay across three plastic chairs. "Because if we lose to Vocal Adrenaline at regionals, none of us are going to regret it. We will have given it our best shot and we won't look back. But we will regret letting them get the best of us before the competition."
Schuester shook his head, "Which is why we need to hit them back just like they hit us." Quinn shook her head, "So you want us to tp their choir room?" Will shook his head, "Whatever the better, cooler version of that is. Like, uh, maybe-maybe we should steal their school statue." Kurt leaned against the back of his chair. "Their school statue is a giant bronze of a great white shark eating a seal pup. It weighs three tons." Mr Schuester sputtered in shock, "Ok, well how about this one? All right we get like..." William's words merged into white noise as the teenagers tuned him out.
Puck– Everyone knows it's going to come down to me. Revenge, fear, the merciless infliction of pain. These are my kingdoms. First time I gave a wedgie to a kid, I was four years old. Finn and I may still hate each other for some reason, but we both know that defending the honor of the New Directions is going to be our dirty job.
Y/n– God, does this man ever shut up? It's like, once you come up with a couple bad ideas the average person would stop, but he keep just going on and on. Wait, why is Puckerman smiling like that? Shit, so is Finn. Oh no, this is gonna be bad.
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Will sighed as he stood in the dark alley between his ex-wife's job. He knew this was low, but after finding out Finn and Puck had popped Vocal Adrenaline's tires he was tired. "Are you sure you wanna take a trip down that rabbit hole, William?" Sandy asked as he held out the packet of medical marijuana. Mr Schue shook his head as he sighed, "I'm willing to try anything, Sandy. I'm just really depressed." Mr Ryerson shook his head, "I don't sell to the clinically depressed. You'll throw yourself off a parking garage and I can't have that on my conscience." WIll's head hung low, even the lowest of low wouldn't help him. "I used to coach that glee club. I know what you're up against. You think Carmel High didn't put the fear of god in me?" William shook his head, "I-I don't know how we can possibly beat them. Glee is hanging by a thread."
Sandy's hands surged forward as he grabbed the teacher by his jacket and shook him. "William, the answer is right in front of your face, but you can't see it because you're in too big of a funk. Vocal Adrenaline has a weakness."
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The glee kids settled in their seats as the school bell went off, the sound of Mr Schue's dry-erase marker squeaking against the whiteboard as he wrote out the assignment. "Funk. Use it in a sentence." There was a short moment where the teens just stared at him. "Come on. Rachel," He called on the usually enthusiastic girl. "This cheese smells funky." Puck smiled at the opportunity to make a pun. "That's cause its 'from-unda' cheese." Rachel glared at him, "Shut it, Puckerman!" Mr Schue shook his head, "Ok, ok. I was thinking more along the lines of, Vocal Adrenaline has sure put us all in a funk." Kurt pressed two fingers against his temple, "I'm so depressed I've worn the same outfit twice this week." "What if I told you I knew how we could shove it right back down their throats?"
The group's interest peaked. "New Directions is about to make their funk the P-funk. We are gonna get funked up. The only way to do that is to beat them at regionals. Vocal Adrenaline has never once done a funk number. They're a machine, a collective, synthesized, soulless beat. Funk is soul meet anger. It's passion is in its emotion. And Vocal adrenaline doesn't perform with any. So you have your assignment. I want you guys to turn McKinley high into Funky town." Mercedes shook her head with a smile. "You guys can relax, I got this one covered." Mr Schue nodded, "Cool." Quinn scoffed, "Hold on a second. I-I wanna chance to get funky too." Most of the other club members laughed. "Good one, Quinn." Mercedes said through a giggle. "It even sounds funny when you say it." Quinn rolled her eyes. "You said funk was about soul and anger. I have plenty of both. Look at me. Look at my life. I'm furious!"
Mercedes shook her head, "Let's be honest. When white people try to be funky, you end up with Casey and the Sunshine Band." Mercedes's laughter started up again. "I love boogie shoes," Artie commented. "Mercedes' racism aside. I will have something prepared tomorrow." Mr Schue nodded, "All right, Quinn goes first." The students scattered out of the room as the bell rang.
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Mr Schuester clapped his hands as the bell went off, signaling class beginning. "Ok, Quinn, it's your day to show us your funky side. So, take it away." He quickly rushed to take a seat as Quinn nodded and left hers to take the center of the room. "For some of us just simply getting to class takes a little bit longer. When you're pregnant, you're responsible for two lives." She clasped her hands in front of her as some of the other members stared at her strangely, most likely in discomfort. "And you're walking down the hallway oppressed by the man." Mercedes shook her head as she mumbled to herself, "Oh my goodness, she is not about to go there." "Hearing people call you fat. Sometimes it hurts." She stomped her foot in frustration as a group of also pregnant women joined the room.
"Sometimes you have to stop and hold that precious life and say no." Artie furrowed his brows, "This is offensive. Who are these girls?" He asked the question on everyone's minds. "We're the unwed mothership connection. And that's what we're here to sing about." Y/n chucked, "That's dope. Sounds like something outta Star Trek."
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"Can I have one?" Quinn asked as she sat next to Y/n under the bleachers. Y/n looked over at her, handing her the entire pack of twizzlers before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sticking one in his mouth. She sighed as she bit off the end of a Twizzler. "You gonna light that?" She asked, noting to the cigarette in his mouth and he shook his head. "In a minute. Secondhand smoke inhalation is the number one cause of lung cancer and you don't need that for your baby." He winced, "I mean, the baby." Quinn shook her head, "It's ok. Why do you like it down here so much?" Y/n shrugged, "I don't know. It's quiet, I guess." He chuckled to himself as Coach Tanaka screamed at the football team. "Well, quiet as it can get in a high school." Quinn chuckled along with him, "Yeah, I suppose you're right." They sat in silence for a bit before Quinn spoke up.
"Have you ever considered dating?" Y/n's eyes widened, "What? Why?" The blonde shook her head, "It's just a question." Y/n shrugged, "Well, I guess not. I haven't really thought about it before." Quinn laughed, "Wow. Really? Not once?" Y/n bumped her shoulder, "Well, maybe once, but I'm not really the dating type. Y/n sat up as he noticed her mood drop a bit, "I just mean, I don't really think I'm anyone's type. So, like, if I wanted to date someone, it's not like I could." Quinn nodded, "Oh." Y/n nodded as he turned away from her, "Yeah."
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Mr Schuester walked down the school hallway in confusion as he was greeted with sobbing Cheerios. "Santana, are you all right?" He asked as he walked up to the sputtering girl. She slightly shook her head as she walked away from him and further into the halls overrun with sadness. He scanned the halls for a familiar but calm student who could give him answers. "Kurt, what is going on around here?" He asked as he rushed over to the boy. "Coach Sylvester won't get out of bed. We haven't had practice in days. I'm fine because I have glee, but these girls have sort of lost it." Y/n rushed up to the two of them, glaring their teacher down, "Whatever you did to Sue fix it. I didn't think I'd miss gossiping but now my routine is all out of order and I know it was you because I heard yous saying a bunch of weird cryptic stuff about revenge on Sue."
Mr Schue nodded as Kurt and he continued their conversation, "No nationals means four of the girls will lose their college scholarships. And the rest are just depressed and confused." Mr Schue stopped in horror as he watched Brittany spiral, "It's really hard to feel bad for Sue Sylvester, she doesn't need another trophy, but some of these girls, they really do." Kurt walked away from his shell-shocked teacher.
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Finn stood anxiously in front of his teacher, "Mr Schue, Puck and I would like to show the class the true meaning of funk. With a little help from our special guest, Mercedes." The group of teens clapped for her as she joined Finn. Puck placed his hands on his hips, "Fasten your seat belts, people. It's gonna be a funky ride."
The group of students clapped. "Good job guys, but that's not funk." Mr Schuester said as he stepped towards the trio. "I mean, the group is called Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch, but that is a rap song." Puck shrugged, "A kick butt old-school rap song." Mr Schuester nodded and Y/n laughed, "Mr Schuester, I was gonna wait till tomorrow since our choreo isn't done but I think me and Santana can show 'em a bit of funk." A chorus of 'oohs' echoes through the group as Mr Schuester chuckled, "Ok. Show us what you got Mr funky town." Y/n and Santana stood from their seats as the other three sat down. "Does it really matter, Mr Schue?" Artie asked as Santana and Y/n quickly discussed the fleshed-out part of their choreography. "We're so clinicly depressed, we're doing the wrong songs." Mr Schuester shook his head as Y/n interrupted. "We're ready."
(Don't get on my ass about this "not being a funk song" it's on Spotify's funk 49 playlist, I checked)
The group of students clapped as Y/n and Santana gave overdramatic bows.
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Mercedes sat in front of Quinn as she sulked in the library. "Mercedes, I'm so sorry." Mercedes shook her head, "You may not be a minority, but you certainly get how it feels sometimes." Quinn shook her head, "For nine months. You've had to deal with this your whole life. People making assumptions, calling you names. I seriously can't understand why you don't feel like yelling at people all the time." Mercedes shook her head, "What's the point in getting angry?" "Because it's infuriating." She sighed, "I hate all the looks at school. Don't even get me started on Puck's mom. And I mean, Y/n is nice and all, but he just doesn't understand." Mercedes shook her head, "You're not angry. You're hurt. You just need someplace safe where you can dig through all that rage. Get to all the pain beneath it. So it's decided. Saturday you move out of Puck's house and you move in with me."
Quinn smiled, "I already talked to my mom about it. My brother went off to college and we have an extra room." The blonde shook her head, "Mercedes..." She shrugged, "It's cool. Us sisters gotta stick together, right?" Quinn laughed in relief as Mercedes raised her hand for a fist bump.
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Rachel's voice shaked as she explained what had happened to the other glee members. "ANd now I just keep having nightmares of all of the mothers of the little baby chicks coming after me for revenge." Puck hit his fists against his knees, "Ah, this is bullshit! Finn, Mike, Matt, Y/n, come with me." The group of boys stood in anger, "Right on. It's time for less talking and more punching." Finn said through his teeth. "Hey, what's going on?" Mr Schuester asked as he entered the club room. "Vocal Adrenaline dumped a bunch of chicken eggs on Rachel." Y/n explained as Finn shifted angrily in his spot, "And now ere gonna go all Braveheart on 'em!" Mr Schue shook his head, "Guys, violence is never the answer." Y/n scoffed, "Well, right now it sure feels like it is." Puck nodded, "Oh, it is when the question is what's the best way to mess up that Jesse kid's face!"
Kurt nodded, "Mr Schue, Rachel's one of us. We're the only ones who get to humiliate her." MR Schuester sighed. "Stop!" He shouted at the group of boys moving past him. "Get back here and sit down!" Kurt quickly went back to his seat. "Look, I know from experience that making someone else suffer doesn't make your pain go away. You're all amazing, no matter what Vocal Adrenaline says or does. We just need to find a way to remind ourselves of that." Finn shook his head, "We can't just let Vocal Adrenaline get away with turning Rachel into an omelet." Mr Schue shook his head, "We're not. Rachel, dial Jesse's number on your phone." Rachel pulled her phone out of her purse and handed it to her teacher.
"You haven't deleted his number yet?" Santana asked from her seat. "Jesse St. James? Will Schuester here. You and Vocal Adrenaline need to meet at our auditorium Friday, 3:00 sharp." He shut Rachel's phone and handed it back to her.
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"Thanks for coming," Rachel said, looking down at Vocal Adrenaline from her place on the stage. "After your brazen escalation of our growing dispute, which we were willing to put to rest, we decided the only way to truly funkify you is to show you the one thing we know you can't do. So enjoy."
"See you punks at regionals," Puck said as he left the sage alongside the rest of New Directions while Vocal Adrenaline sat in horror. "They did a funk number," Jesse said with wide eyes. "We've never been able to pull off a funk number." The girl sitting next to him nodded. "Well, that's because we're soulless automatons." "I'm so depressed."