Episode 6.7: “Transitioning” (Air date Feb. 13, 2015)

No preamble at all this week: A group of teenagers launch right into Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name” and show off some very tight, precise choreography. It’s Vocal Adrenaline, and they’re rehearsing before Will (Matthew Morrison) even gets there to coach them. Guess they didn’t want a lesson on “Names” as a theme this week. Or something. Anyway, their supposed coach drives down the street in an SUV, smirking at another driver whose muffler is dragging behind his car and setting off sparks. In a voiceover, Will humble-brags about how great his life is since he’s been coaching Vocal Adrenaline. He has an unlimited budget for the choir, a nutritionist, a costume designer, a strength-and-conditioning specialist...though, judging from the Old New Directions’ productions, he probably had a lot of that back at McKinley. But wait, there’s more! The car he’s driving is a company car (schools are companies now? Man, privatization of public services really has gone too far!), he has a massage therapist, “and a paycheck so big we moved into a higher tax bracket.”

In the Carmel High auditorium, Will watches his students rehearse and voiceovers that they’re so committed, they usually start rehearsal without him. (Maybe if you got there on time, Will...just sayin’.) Still, he acknowledges, he misses “the camaraderie of [Old] New Directions. It’s every man for himself here.” To illustrate the point, one of the students falls flat on his face and the rest of the team just dances right over him. In Will’s office, an alumnus, Jimbo, gives him a super-fancy baby stroller—and, hey, that alum is played by Gary Grubbs, who was Will’s top client on the first and second seasons of "Will & Grace" way back in the ’90s! Good to see you, Gary! “I was always a football guy myself,” Jimbo says, “but my flaming gay son loves show choir. And championships are championships.” So Jimbo is throwing all his (supposedly financial) support behind Vocal Adrenaline, as long as they keep winning competitions. Will looks anxious.

In a park, Emma (Jayma Mays—the real Jayma Mays, not a stand-in!) pushes baby Daniel Finn in a stroller as she offers support for Will’s endeavours, as long as he’s honest with himself. Will wants to see real changes at Carmel, combining the resources and support of Vocal Adrenaline with the “heart and inspiration” of New Directions. Emma, of course, is unwaveringly supportive. Will suggests letting the baby out to play, but Emma is terrified of the germs he might pick up. Will laughs—because what’s funnier than obsessive compulsive disorder?--and leans in to kiss his wife, but she suddenly gasps and makes a face generally reserved for horror movies. Blaine (Darren Criss) and Rachel (Lea Michele) stand in front of them, covered in raw egg (which really has to be painful for the vegan Rachel). Vocal Adrenaline, it would seem, decided to “go with the tradition of egging the competition.” In slow motion, we see the VA students pelting the duo with eggs to the sounds of a choir singing what might be something from the Carmina Burana. Roll credits!

In the Vocal Adrenaline auditorium, Will writes the word “Tolerance” on a whiteboard and announces that bullying will not be tolerated. “I think you’re being intolerant of our intolerance, Will,” Clint (Max George) snarks. “It’s Mr. Schuester,” Will snaps. “And don’t be such a smartass Clint.” This week’s theme, he continues, will be songs about tolerance, which he will lead by example with the help of a guest—a Vocal Adrenaline alumni, in fact! (Will, you’re supposed to be a teacher. Shouldn’t you know that the world “alumni” is plural? Sigh. Whatever.)

And...Oh, no. Will begins rapping the opening of Macklemore’s “Same Love,” and the VA kids give each other side eye on behalf of the audience. And hey, there’s Wade “Unique” Adams (Alex Newell), resplendent in a stunning red sequined gown and a necklace that I’m going to say is diamonds even though it’s probably not. I don’t care. Welcome back, Unique, you fabulous catfisher, you! Unique takes over the song and sings beautifully, and I hope Newell has a long and happy career after this show wraps.

The song ends and is met with silence. Finally, Clint speaks. “What the hell was that, Schuester? You can’t be serious.” “Serious as a hangnail, honey!” Unique snaps back. “Shut up, stop rapping and let us rehearse for Sectionals,” a wise-beyond-her-years VA student begs. “We don’t care about gay or straight or trans or intersex. We care about winning.” Well, and egging the competition. You care about that, too. But Clint sees an opportunity to rattle the New New Directions by making the scrappy underdogs think that the unlimited-budget champions are intolerant. Or something. “They’ll go into Will Schuester mode and dedicate an entire week of practice to a lesson about tolerance!” Will starts yelling, and tells his students that their talent does not give them the right to behave however they want. “Now, like it or not, I am running the show choir now and I am gonna run it how I like.” Vocal Adrenaline just stares back at him. Hey, do the New New Directions even have 12 members in the club yet? Will they even be allowed to perform at Sectionals? Why are these champions so worked up over six students who don’t pose a threat? Whatever. Moving on...

A soft man’s voice says, “This is it. It took a long time to get here, and my heart’s racing like a slow pig at a sausage factory,”—great symbolism there—”But I can truly say that today, I’m living the life I've always wanted.” A car door opens in the McKinley parking lot and a man steps out and head into the McKinley Hallway. “I took some time off to let my outsides catch up with my insides, but now I’m ready to take this old jalopy for a spin.” And--to the surprise of no one who’s seen a preview of the episode—it’s Coach Sheldon Beiste, back from surgery and now living openly as a man and rocking a scruffy bit of beard. (And yeah, for the record, Dot-Marie Jones looks damn good in a suit.)

He turns around at a familiar voice in the hallway, and Sue (Jane Lynch) and Sam (Chord Overstreet) casually wander up. Sue is smiling and downright pleasant, and sure enough, Matthew Hodgson is the episode writer, so Sue will be downright likeable tonight. Because, you know, who needs character consistency? “I almost mistook you for an aging yet virile James Garner,” Sue says by way of greeting, and Sam happily begins to ramble about all the “guy talk” they need to have to catch up. “Just take a breath so you don’t black out on me,” Beiste says calmly. While Sam breathes, Sue throws her arm over the coach’s shoulder and announces that she has taken steps to “battle the scourge of cis-normativity and trans-misogyny and some other terms I had never heard of until I did a quick Wikipedia search this morning.” But Sheldon just wants things to go back to normal—which seems kind of silly, since people rarely take kindly to change. Sam has made a list of pronouns from which Beiste choose his favorite to describe himself. “You just tell me which one and I’ll enforce it! There’s ‘he,’ there’s ‘s/he,’ there’s ‘it,’ there’s ‘zhim’, ‘ze’ … “I think ‘he’ and ‘him’ works fine,” Beiste says as Sue stops to remind everybody that she’s “always” been opposed to bullying “in any form”...unless it involves pushing kids into lockers or locking alumni up in fake elevators or hypnotizing assistant coaches into sexually assaulting their friends. But other than that, no bullying at all. “I want you to know that I am here for you,” she continues, “as a friend, ally and a shoulder to cry on—metaphorically, of course, because you’re a man now and real men don’t cry.” Beiste says that he’s surprised by how calm everybody’s being and impressed that no one is gawking. “You’ll be happy to know that McKInley High is now a fully gender-fluid high school,” Sue says, without really clarifying what that means. “Now if you’ll excuse me, out of the corner of my eye I see a fatty who could use a good healthy fat-shaming.” Oh, good, so there actually is a little bit of consistency this week. Sue heads off down the hall (not walking toward anyone in particular, making me wonder if she wasn’t just trying to get away from the awkward conversation), and Sam and Sheldon high-five as Sam walks off to find Rachel.

In the faculty lounge, Rachel looks mournful, and explains to Sam that she woke up that morning to learn that the sale of her dads’ house has finally gone through in spite of her efforts to sabotage it. (Genuinely funny quick cut to a realtor showing a prospective buyer around and finding Rachel standing in a shower with her hair covering her face, much like the creepy little girl in "The Ring.") “Rachel, that’s insane,” Sam says, and I begin to reconsider all the obnoxious cracks I’ve made about his intelligence over the years because he seems pretty smart in this episode. Rachel whines that it’s the house she’s grown up in and the only home she’s ever known and she doesn’t want to pack away her childhood. Sam—again, behaving very intelligently—reminds her that he was homeless for a while, but Rachel doesn’t want to hear it (nice way to dismiss your friend’s traumatic experience, Rach) and says that she will not let her dads go through with the sale. Because it’s all up to her, of course. If she had stayed on Broadway, she probably could have purchased the house from them herself.

Quick cut to a random classroom where the New New Directions, Artie (Kevin McHale) and Mercedes (Amber Riley) have gathered. Sam says that they’re here to help Rachel, and Mercedes notes that she’s been mentoring the starlet for a week. “What could she possibly need now?” she asks, tactfully not mentioning that other people at McKinley have lives and issues, too. Kurt (Chris Colfer) explains about the house sale, and blah blah, Rachel loves the house and doesn’t want to grow up even though she ran off first to New York and then to L.A. to get away from Lima. “She’s making one of the biggest transitions of all,” Sam says with a very serious inflection, and working the episode title into the dialogue, “one that we are all gonna have to make soon.” Leaving your childhood home? Oh, for the love of God. I would think Coach Beiste’s transition is a bit bigger than a normal aspect of growing up. Kitty calls him on this and asks if Sam is announcing a new gender. “No, this is all about Rachel!” he yells, because he knows the show pretty well by this point. “She’s growing up. We all are. Even though we keep coming back to high school and never leave.” Maybe he doesn’t say that last line. But he should.

As Coach Beiste walks through the parking lot, he stops in front of his car: In spite of Sue’s efforts, the car is covered in toilet paper jockstraps and shaving foam that spells the words “Coach Tranny.” Clint and several Vocal Adrenaline members drive by, snapping pictures of Beiste’s stricken face and laughing. Because teenagers are jerks. Why does no one want to leave their high school again?

Will walks into Sue’s office, where Beiste is waiting for him. “Sue’s just making a big stink over nothing,” Beiste says, because he also watches this show and knows the characters pretty well. Sue informs Will of the vandalism, and Will offers sympathy. “I knew there’s a possibility that something like this was going to happen, so when it did, I wasn’t all that surprised,” Beiste says sadly, and I want to crawl through the TV and hug Dot-Marie Jones because she’s just that damn good. But Will doesn’t get why he’s been called in regarding vandalism on McKinley property, so Sue asks “Newly Boobless” (remember how she said no bullying?) to explain. “The kids wore Carmel colors, Will” Sheldon Beiste says. “They were from Vocal Adrenaline. They were your kids.” “Are you serious? No one goes after one of my friends and gets away with it," Will storms. “Except for me,” Sue notes. “I always go after your friends and I’ve never not gotten away with it." Glaring at Sue, Will rubs Sheldon’s shoulder in sympathy and apologizes for his students.

In the choir room, Rachel announces that this week’s theme for the New New Directions will be “Buckeye Bullseye,” focusing on local Ohio artists like Marilyn Manson and Dean Martin. But Kurt interrupts her to explain a change in plans and to announce that this week’s theme is “Transitioning,” which can focus on Rachel’s transitioning out of her childhood home and accepting adulthood. “Or at least that’s according to the very nice lady at the Lima Mental Health Clinic,” Blaine adds...and why is he here? Doesn’t he have his own glee club to coach? Anyway. The Old and New New Directions are going to host a Farewell to Rachel’s House party in her basement. (Shouldn’t they check in with her dads about that first?) “So, this lesson isn't for us?” Madison McCarthy (Laura Dreyfuss) asks. “It’s for Rachel?” Mason (Billy Lewis Jr.) confirms. Well, of course it is, you crazy kids! You’re just high school students learning everything you can to succeed in the world! Rachel, your teacher, is a high school graduate who had her opportunity and blew it—who needs lessons more? “Yeah, so shut up,” Kitty sighs. Sam calls for his “wheel,” and Blaine brings in a Wheel-of-Fortune-esque wheel with the names of the Old and New New Directions on it. Each member will spin to see who he or she will sing a duet with at the party. (Sam, however, isn’t going to spin because he wants to sing with Rachel.) “Can’t we just pull names out of a hat?” Spencer (Marshall Williams) asks, and is greeted with confused looks. You guys, I’m starting to like Spencer. Mercedes spins first and gets Roderick (who she doesn’t even know). Kurt spins next and makes sure that it lands on Blaine. In the hallway, Kurt catches up to Blaine and tries to pass it all off as coincidence. “What are the odds,” Blaine laughs, because he’s no fool. But he’s okay with the scheming, as long as Kurt doesn’t mention the duet to Karofsky. “He thinks there’s still something between us. Which there obviously isn’t. “Obviously!” Kurt agrees. They agree to pick a song later. “We’ll do something uptempo. Or slow. I’m versatile,” Blaine says. I’m sure Kurt remembers, Blaine.

In the faculty room, Coach Beiste is sitting at a table. Sam and Spencer storm in and demand to know which Vocal Adrenaline members were behind the vandalism (referring to them as “rock lobsters,” which is a cute little shout out). Spencer promises to kill whoever did it, and in full football coach mode, Beiste roars for them both to sit down and let it go. Fighting won’t help anything, he says, but Spencer argues that it would teach them “not to mess with any of us or we’ll destroy them.” “I’ve been dealing with ignorant people who couldn’t understand me my whole life,” Beiste sighs. “But you know what? I couldn’t be happier with myself. How many people get to say that?” He also notes that he’s glad to hear Spencer refer to himself as “one of us.” Spencer is more than a star player, he adds, but part of a team—a transition (yay!) he credits to Sam. Sam apologizes for his outburst and threats. “You did not disappoint me. In fact, I couldn’t be prouder. You boys get back to practice.”

In Carmel High’s Auditorium, Will rages that the vandalism is “completely unacceptable. I can handle insubordination, but this isn’t about me. This is about teaching you to act like human beings!” That, he says, is more important than winning competitions, but Clint cuts him off to say that they all know Will is “too soft for this job” and has a “loser mentality.” Well, yeah, didn’t you hear their “Loser Like Me” song from way back when? “You know who didn’t give a crap about being kind? Lewis and Clark! George Patton! Paul Anka!” Heh. “I don’t want to be decent or liked. I want to be a champion, and this is how it’s done!” He’s willing to risk being called a bad guy if it means success, because as “every person on the planet knows, winning is everything!” This gets cheers from the other students, and Will sighs. “We will win Nationals, but we will win in the right way,” he says. But Clint isn’t done, and tells Will that he (Will) doesn’t belong at Carmel, that none of them like him, that they make fun of his vests and pep talks behind his back and that he’s a joke. “The joke’s on you, Clint,” Will smirks. “You’re off the team.” “You can’t kick me off the team!” Clint protests. “I am the team!” But will is unfazed. “Get out. Now.” Clint looks stunned and walks out. And really, Clint, if you don’t start relaxing, I’m going to start writing your name in all capital letters so that it more resembles your personality. And scene.

At Chez Schuester, Will is repairing the fancy stroller that, apparently, has broken after its first week of use. Emma calls him into bed—“But take a shower first because you’re touching that wheel that touched the ground.” And what the hell is Emma wearing? It looks more like a Disney princess dress than a nightgown. Seriously, is she about to break into “Let It Go?” Anyway, Emma realizes that Will is upset because he’s “talking in your angry man voice,” and Will laments his rock-and-hard-place position with his job: He loves teaching show choir and he loves all the perks and the money, but he hates the kids and their awful values. Emma offers unconditional support and suggests he look for a job that makes him happier even if it means less money (“My pamphlet of the month club is starting to bring in some extra cash!”), but Will is also concerned about being able to provide for his family, noting that he knows some teachers who are on food stamps. And who can blame him? They’ll have to put little Danny through college soon, and do you know how much that costs these days? “You can be principled when you don’t have kids to feed and clothe,” he sighs, but Emma argues that having a kid means living up to your principles and setting a good example and being proud of your work. She’s not wrong, of course, but the money isn’t bad, either. (And how refreshing is it to have a wife care more about her husband providing a good example for a child rather than providing only material goods and money?)

In Rachel’s basement (someone dug that set out from Season Two!), Artie emcees the evening and calls up Mercedes and Roderick to sing Meghan Trainor’s “All About that Bass.” They have fun with the number and dance through the crowd, which sings along and dances. Sam and Rachel flirt over the punch, which Sam is drinking straight from the bowl. (Stay classy, Sam.) While the song goes on, Rachel and Sam disappear up the stairs. Whoo! Think anyone will notice that the hostess isn’t there?

Upstairs, Rachel leads Sam into her room, where he notices her wall of pictures from her high school years. I mean, her first high school years. Not this retread. “Is that from Rocky Horror?” he asks, looking at a shot from that tribute episode. “Do you remember when I had to wear those tight gold shorts?" “I think everyone remembers that," Rachel chuckles, and she’s not wrong. (Thanks for the memory!) “My best memories from childhood are on that wall,” she sighs. “My whole childhood, I spent in this room singing and dreaming all alone with pictures of Barbra Streisand, Patti LuPone and Bernadette Peters. But then I met you guys and suddenly the wall started to fill up with real friends and real dreams.” Sitting next to her on the bed, Sam says that she just needs a bigger wall. When she’s back in New York, she’ll have the wall with her, and if he’s lucky, he adds, he’ll be on it somewhere—“Wearing incredibly tight sparkly gold shorts.” They kiss, look into each other’s eyes, kiss again more passionately and fall onto the bed. Man, this really is just like high school all over again!

While Sam and Rachel party upstairs (heyo!), the official party is going on downstairs, where Artie brings up everybody’s “two favorite gays,” Kurt and Blaine! The two launch into Betty Who’s “Somebody Loves You,” and the crowd starts some truly impressive 80s-esque breakdancing...I think I caught the Worm and the Running Man. The boys sneak looks at one another as they sing the romantic lyrics, costumes are brought out--Blaine gets a boa and Kurt gets a helmet...which...why? Something to do with the music video? In the middle of this, my friend Robert sends over a text praising the inclusion of an “emotionally resonant” song, and the number and its energy actually make me smile. Well done, show. Outside, Blaine is getting ready to leave, and Kurt follows him out to say goodnight. Blaine says that singing Somebody Loves You reminded him of the very first song they ever sang together...does Kurt remember? Kurt feigns ignorance, but then laughs and recalls singing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” way back in the second season, and confesses that he was in love with Blaine even then, but Blaine had a crush on that clerk at the Gap at the time. It takes them a moment to remember Gap Boy’s name (Jeremiah), and they laugh about their schoolboy crushes...and it’s kind of convenient that neither one mentions how they got Jeremiah fired and probably ruined his life. “Whatever happened to him?” “I have no clue.” (Robert: “Presumably, he's a homeless meth addict now.”) Anyway! Blaine and Karofsky have to be up at 5am for a football game, but before he leaves he leans in and kisses Kurt, who looks stunned. Blaine walks away as Kurt watches him go.

Another song already? Yes, Sam and Rachel are back at the party (without any mussed hair or rumpled clothing...hmmm...) and get up to sing Tony-winner Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” and make eyes at each other. The song continues as Sam (and, later, the rest of the gang) help dismantle Rachel’s wall, and in a cool effect, the pictures become video clips from the show’s past. Sam and Rachel hold hands as they pack, and even though the whole storyline started with ridiculous mind-control, the actors sell the scene and make the moment work. I’ll allow it.

Locker Room! Beiste is...doing something that must be sports-related when he is interrupted by Unique, still looking fantastic in a gender-neutral shirt and natural hair. “I had to get my trans-gossip from Will Schuester?,” Unique scolds, and Beiste says that it’s all been a bit overwhelming. “Being back at McKInley or the surgery?” Unique asks. “Being myself,” Beiste says. He feels normal inside, he continues, but nobody’s treating him like he’s normal. “That’s because you’re not normal,” Unique says. “You’re special. And not because of some surgery, but because you’re brave enough to go out and get something when you want it.” But Beiste doesn’t want to be special, he argues—“Just one of the guys!” But there’s no one else like him around, so he’s...well, unique. Ahem. Unique, looking timid, asks if the surgery hurt. “LIke a bucket of hammers being dumped on my chest!” Beiste laughs, adding that it felt like his breasts should never have been there in the first place. Any regrets, Unique asks? None, Beiste assures her, and the feeling of relief is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just wishes he wasn’t going through it alone. Unique takes Beiste’s hand. “You’re not alone,” she says.

Back at Carmel, Will walks back into the auditorium, where Clint (whose name will remain in lower-case letters because this is a family website) has returned since Jimbo (from the first scene) made a stink and had Principal Abigail Figgins reinstate the obnoxious teenager. But Will says he has no problem with this: “You are this team, and you represent everything this place stands for,” he says, and no one picks up on the insult. Will acknowledges that he had been considering quitting, but he still may be able to teach these kids something. “We’ll win the VA way!” he declares, and everyone finally claps, but Clint looks wary, because Clint’s no fool. A jerk and some other words I can’t use on a family website, but no fool. Will is going to lead Vocal Adrenaline in the “prank to end all pranks,” because “no one understands psychological warfare better than William Schuester,”...except maybe Sue Sylvester, but that depends on who’s writing the episode.

Karofsky and Blaine return to their apartment as Dave laughs about someone putting “clumsy fat-ass Craig on defense,” so I assume they’re talking about tennis or something. Blaine is so quiet and contemplative that Dave notices and asks what’s wrong. Karofsky asks what happened at Rachel’s party and Blaine owns up to the duet. “Why would I be upset that you sang a duet with Kurt?” Dave asks. “You guys don’t stop singing. That’s not it.” And then he figures it out. “Oh, man.” And as much as I’ve hated Karofsky from day one, Max Adler does some really beautiful work in this moment. “Just tell me one thing,” Karofsky says quietly. “Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?” Blaine just stares at him in silence. Dave sighs again, and...wait, what’s happening? Am I feeling...sympathy for Dave Karofsky? It’s a Polar Vortex miracle. “I knew it,” he sighs. “You still love him. You never stopped.” Ever since Kurt returned to Lima, he continues, there was a “ticking clock hanging over us. Time’s up.” Blaine apologizes, but Dave is cool with it. “It’s OK. It’s OK. I know. No hard feelings, OK? And that clumsy fat-ass Craig? He tried to slip me his number at the game. Look, there’s a whole world of guys out there waiting to be my rebound. Go. Tell Kurt. Just do me a favor. Don’t sing it. Just say it.” They hug, and Blaine kisses Dave on the cheek. One last look, and Blaine walks out the door, and once again, Criss just nails the emotion. Considering how short the scene was (and how neat and tidy the ending was), both actors really hit some emotional high points. Cheers to them both.

In slow motion, Blaine tears through the dark halls of McKinley and races into the choir room— where Kurt is getting ready to go out. “Walter, this is Blaine!” Walter (Harry Hamlin) shakes “The Blaine’s” hand and praises his bowtie. Blaine tries to cover and pretends that he was looking for Rachel, but she walks in and announces that it’s a double date with her, Sam, Walter and Kurt. (Walter, apparently, loves musical flops. I knew he had good taste!) As they head out, Kurt suggests that Blaine bring Karofsky next time and they can make it a triple date. Blaine looks crushed.

The Vocal Adrenaline kids sneak into the McKinley Auditorium, where Will says he has stashed boxes of KY Jelly backstage that they can dump all over the stage. They huddle up by the front row just in time to see Unique walk in from offstage singing “I Know Where I’ve Been” from Hairspray a cappella. Even her microphone is blinged out. How much did that cost the school district? The band joins in after the first verse.

On cue, Beiste is guided in by Spencer, and magically, there’s a huge choir singing behind Unique—when did they arrive? How did 200 people sneak in so silently? And what hallway were they waiting in? And as the camera pans across the choir, we see that they’re all transgender. Beiste joins in the choir and sings along (when did he learn showtunes?), and in spite of the lack of logic that is no more ridiculous than anything else on the show, the moment is chill-inducing and genuinely gorgeous. Like Tina said earlier this season, I’m just going to sit and smile. The song ends with a fantastic high note from Newell, everyone cheers and hugs and someone is clearly chopping onions in this room. **sniff** (Robert: “So the plot that started with these kids being d***s to a song from one trans-person...is resolved with them listening to a song from many trans-people. OK. Sure, why not?”)

But leave it to Clint to kill the moment. “I knew you were full of crap,” he rages at Will. “Your little kumbaya lesson cost us two hours of valuable rehearsal time, and you can bet the Booster Association is gonna hear about it!” Will argues that appreciating the arts means more than rehearsal. “It means finding yourself in the music, and sometimes it means taking a week off of sectionals practice to do something to make your friend feel good.” He’s not willing to sacrifice those values anymore, so he quits. “You can’t do that, Will!” Beiste protests, but Will says that it’s not because of the vandalism of Beiste’s car: “Unique came to me and we spent a whole week gathering a transgender choir 300 voices strong to make you feel welcome and at home.” (Robert: “That is a completely stupid way to spend a week!” Me: “Did the students actually go to class during this week or were they just rehearsing?”) An alarm rings, and Sue appears at the back of the auditorium on the God mic. “Attention Vocal Adrenaline members. I will give you six minutes to leave campus before I unleash my hounds. Also, I’ve slashed all the tires on your bus, so you’ll have to walk home. Perhaps you can use this March of Death opportunity to consider how awful you really are.” Dogs start barking, and the VA kids start running. Wait, they came in their school bus for a prank? Good luck explaining that move to the school board! Sigh. Whatever. The song was fantastic, so that’s what I’m going to hold on to.

The next day, Will, Kurt and Rachel sit in the empty choir room. Will has no immediate plan for a new job, but he can get by on savings for a few months. Rachel asks if he’ll be the New New Directions “Special Alumni Consultant,” and if that means he’ll be a consultant to the alumni, then isn’t that what he’s already doing? And if it means he’ll be an alumnus consultant for the club, then isn’t that what they’re doing? Whatever. Will says he’d be honored to help, but he has two conditions: “You guys have to make all the major decisions, and you both have to call me Will.” Rachel can handle that. Kurt can’t.

Rachel and Kurt, Will continues, are just “passing through this place,” but it’s where he feels he belongs. And I kind of love that line: The whole episode—and the series, in fact—has been about people figuring out who and where they need to be, and doing what they need to in order to feel at home in their bodies, their communities and their lives. It’s a sweet little moment that makes me eager to see Morrison in Finding Neverland.

Anyway, the trio begin to discuss upcoming themes. Kurt wants to do another Britney Spears lesson, “but there are no more songs left in her catalogue!” Thank heaven for small favors. Do the current six members of the New New Directions have any personal problems, Will asks. “We don’t really know,” Kurt says. “We don’t spend too much time talking to them.”

“You should!” Will says. “Get to know them! Some day, they may be the best friends you have.” Oh, God, that’s so sad. (Robert: “That is also a totally unhealthy and weird idea about friendship! Get friends your own age, Will! Of course, it is confusing, since the ‘kids’ look the same age or older than Matthew Morrison, but still!”)

Up Next: A Wedding. Whose will it be? Hmm...

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"Transitioning" (Air date Feb. 13, 2015)

Guest Stars:

Jayma Mays as Emma Pillsbury

Max George as Clint

Alex Newell as Unique Adams

Harry Hamlin as Walter

Gary Grubbs as Jimbo Wilson

Songs

"You Give Love a Bad Name" by Bon Jovi (Vocal Adrenaline)

"Same Love" by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis with Mary Lambert (Alex Newell and Matthew Morrison)

"All About That Bass" by Meghan Trainor (Amber Riley and Noah Guthrie)

"Somebody Loves You" by Betty Who (Darren Criss and Chris Colfer)

"Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper (Lea Michele and Chord Overstreet)

"I Know Where I've Been" by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman (Alex Newell and The Transpersons Choir)