Hello and welcome to the sixth episode of the fourth season of Glee, a magical television program about children and the gigantic potatoes who teach them how to sing. This week’s episode was entitled “Glease,” which’s also the name of William Schuster’s favorite hair product and Rachel Berry’s favorite cruelty-free vegan lubricant. So get on your jammies, grab a donut, stick a panda hat on your head and let’s get started!
We open in the Glorious Glee Club room, where a wide-eyed manchild has an announcement to make! What will it be? Brittany guesses “Adele is dead,” which sets us up to view the ensuing announcement as less horrifying than it is.
I mean, sure, Will’s handing Glee Club over to a human-shaped pile of vermicompost, but at least Adele’s not dead!
Tina’s delightfully incredulous, Artie’s confused, Brittany’s on Unicorn Planet, and Unique’s like, “whatever, that guy’s had no clue what to do with me since the moment I walked through the door.”
Tina: “Mr. Shue, Finn cannot take over Glee Club, he doesn’t know what he’s doing, at all! [to Finn] Sorry, Finn.”
Finn: “Guys, I know I can do this. And I’ve got really good ideas for sectionals.”
Tina: “WE’LL ALL BE DEAD BY THEN!”
But Adele will still be alive, so.
Thusly, chaos ensues! Hands are raised! Valid issues are raised!
Sugar: “We can’t win without him. Who’s gonna drive the bus?”
…and then Sue shows up to call Frankenteen into her office. Before we continue let’s just take a time out to bless Sugar Motta’s little heart-shaped heart, yeah?
Smear to the Principal’s lair, where Sue is irascible regarding Finn’s semi-employment at McKinley High. Do we even have enough janitors to handle all that gravy?
Sue: “Finn Hudson barely graduated high school less than six months ago, he has no bachelor’s degree, nor the certification to teach in the state of Ohio.”
Here’s the rub though: although one might imagine Glee to be an actual class as they seem to meet exclusively during school hours, it’s not — it’s an extracurricular, and therefore Finn’s lack of qualifications is NBD, says the Principal.
Finn: “I promise this is the right thing to do. I can take this Glee Club to sectionals, and I know we can win. I’ll work just as hard as Mr. Shue does, and I’ll do it all for free.”
Sue re-declares war against the Soviet Union or Texas or Afghanistan or Glee Club and storms out of the office, destroying all the office supplies and human beings in her path. This aggressive display is accompanied by the familiar sounds of Carmina Burana, a frequent soundtrack for Sue’s aggro moments.
Principal: “You’re a menace to the state of Ohio!”
Starsweep easterly to Fake Julliard, where Kate Hudson’s brought in her “upperclassmen” to help her students “up their game” ’cause she only speaks in Coach Tropes. Rachel’s chatting at Geyerdean’s face during dance class, seemingly her only course this semester.
Rachel: “Now that Finn and I are officially-officially broken up, I feel like I can finally focus on really why I came to New York, which is my work.”
Rachel gushes that she’s snagged an off-broadway audition for Ivan Von Ivanhoesomething’s “avant-garde” production of The Glass Menagerie, starring Tyrion Lannister, the Toledo Zoo, and a yet-to-be-determined “fresh face.” Rachel hopes her face is fresh enough, which’s why she’s protecting it under forty layers of makeup and 50 shades of grey eyeshadow. But Rachel does, actually, seem far more self-assured and ambitious than she was during her relationship with Finn — like she didn’t realize how caged-in the relationship made her feel until she was free. In fact, I endeavor to suggest that Rachel is The New Rachel. Kate Hudson overhears Rachel’s monologue and pops in to rain on her parade:
Kate Hudson: “Hey, some advice. You’re not ready for Ivan. You’re not tough enough yet. You don’t have enough wounds. Look, I auditioned for him for his Hedda, and he made me recite my monologue in a slip, standing on one foot, pouring tomato juice all over myself. Skip it, Schwimmer, Ivan will eat you alive.”
The New Rachel: “I can take it. And look, I was thinking, maybe you should audition too, for Amanda Wingfield!”
Kate Hudson, horrified to receive career advice from a precocious 19-year-old who, until a few months ago, was engaged to marry 180 pounds of cured ham, decides to exact revenge by offering Geyerdean a TA position that’ll require “lots of late nights” and a “lot of time after school.”
Kate Hudson wants to start “planning lessons” this weekend, but Geyerdean wants to start Monday so he can spend the weekend “running lines” with The New Rachel. Kate Hudson says that’s fine in her “that’s not fine” voice.
Smear back to the backstage area of this week’s Ongoing Neverending Constant Marathon Production of Grease, where Marley’s having trouble squeezing into her costume despite it fitting just fine yesterday. Tina suggests “bloating” and absolutely nobody suggests “you actually gained ten pounds overnight” because that’s actually not possible.
Obviously my first thought was “Fake Quinn is feeding her Calteen Bars.”
Amid this unfortunate lady moment, Fake Quinn shows up for her fitting.
Fake Quinn: “I’m here for my fitting. Where is Harajuku Girl?”
Sugar: “I thought you quit because your part was too small.”
Fake Quinn: “Well, Spray-Tanned Hawk Nose, to quote Shakespeare, there are no small parts, only fat actresses. Oh, I’m sorry. Did I just say “fat”? I was distracted by Marley’s unfortunate and very noticeable weight gain. I’m confused. Are you playing the lead in Grease or Hairspray?”
Marley: “I swear, I’m not eating any differently. How is this happening?”
Alas, as revealed to us via flashback, Fake Quinn’s taken up sewing and has been dutifully tailoring Marley’s costume every night to make it just a little bit smaller, thus convincing Marley she’s packing on the pounds, ’cause Fake Quinn is a sociopath.
Fake Quinn says she’s just trying to help and the only reason she’s doing the play is to make real friends. See, Fake Quinn doesn’t have any real friends — an apt observation, as Real Quinn’s sidekicks were crucial to her Quinn-ness and Fake Quinn’s lack thereof is damaging her potential as a character. So…
Fake Quinn: “In the spirit of Grease, I thought it would be a good way for us to get to know each other, if we had a sleepover.”
I recommend adding “in the spirit of Grease” to your drinking game, if it’s not too late. But can Unique come? MARLEY’S NOT COMING UNLESS UNIQUE CAN COME! It’s a cute, tender moment and precisely how I like to imagine high school to be these days, full of supportive youngsters being trans* allies!
Fake Quinn: “Fine, ladyboy can come. But if I catch you hiding your dinky between your legs and prancing around like Silence of the Lambs, you’re out.”
Backstage at the McKinley High School cafeteria, Marley’s having a heart-to-heart with her Mom about how her costume keeps “getting tighter.”
Rather than asking, as I certainly would have 56 times by now, if Marley finds it strange that all her clothes fit the same except for this one dress, or asking, as I certainly would have 56 times by now, if she’s actually noticed any changes in her body size before going on The Zone — Mom indulges Marley in every mother/daughter pair’s most problematic summit for bonding — “weight problems.”
Mama Marley says she “raised a star” with “control over her life and body,” and since we’re talking about “control,” what better way to celebrate control than with an eating disorder?
Mama Marley: “You’re thin and beautiful. But you’re not going to stay that way unless you fight for it. So starting now, we are on a strict new diet. Together.”
It’s a mixed-up message — a woman who just confessed to gaining weight after her divorce due to compulsive binge eating inviting a young, thin, not-even-a-woman-yet teenage girl with imaginary weight problems spurred by a bitchy cheerleader’s unrelated wrath, to diet with her.
Smear over to the faculty lounge, where Sue’s barking at Finn for entering her Safe Space, which she points out is designated for faculty, not 19-year-old “plus-size male prostitutes” booted from the army.
But Finn’s just there to apologize for calling her baby “a retard.”
Sue: “I’ve seen your true colors, Finn Hudson. And you’ve got hate in that heart, double-stuff. And probably also frosting.”
Finn: “Fine. I tried to apologize. If you can’t accept that, it’s on you.”
You know what they say: if at first you don’t succeed, blame the other person and walk away.
Cut to Hummel Tire & Lube, where Finn, The Pied Piper of Pooty Tang, is escorting a band of motley pubescent singer/dancers into the autoshop for Motor Oil Wrestling, a.k.a., “rehearsal.” Finn busts out with intense wisdom:
Finn: “Acting is all about knowing the material, right?”
Step one: memorize your lines.
Finn auto-waxes poetic on Grease‘s “themes,” even though Grease ain’t that deep, but luckily neither is Finn:
Finn: “Well, it’s about fixing cars and getting, getting grease under your fingernails and signing a blood oath with your brothers to the very end.”
So basically, Grease is like Foxfire or The Craft, but with boys and cars and music. Thusly the boyz break into “Greased Lightin,” a more or less shot-for-shot version of the original:
Ryder Bieber-Strong acquires a pompadour for the number as well as a tight black t-shirt and homosexual jeans, making his whole situation at least 65 times more attractive than it was only moments earlier.
Tires are tossed, lyrics are excessively enunciated and before long Ryder Bieber-Strong’s riding a detached car motor while hanging from the ceiling by a white chain. Definitely Emmy material. Unfortunately for Pussy Wagon aficionados worldwide, the song’s lyrics are sanitized for iTunes, robbing us of genius poetry such as: “You know that ain’t shit when we’ll be getting lots of tit,” “You are supreme, the chicks’ll cream for Greased Lightin'” and “With new boosters, plates and shocks, I can get off my rocks / You know that I ain’t braggin’, she’s a real pussy wagon.”
Starsweep across a great expanse of fertile American land to the city of New York, where Kurt’s getting the scoop on Grease via mobile while The New Rachel, dressed like a Nancy Kerrigan Sex Doll, lies suggestively on the dancefloor.
Just as The New Rachel’s emphasizing to Kurt that they’re absolutely not going back to Lima for this Shitshow, Kate Hudson enters with only half a shirt!
Kate Hudson wants the scoop on what the two babies are “definitely not going to.”
Kurt: “Her recently broke up ex-boyfriend is directing my recently-broken-up ex-boyfriend in a school production of Grease, and we’ve got a bunch of friends in it, so we were debating whether or not we should go.”
Upon hearing that Grease is this weekend, Kate Hudson insists that the two of them make the trip to Oh-ho-ho and even offers up her JetBlue frequent flier miles to get Rachel there sans cash. Um, but persons wishing to transfer frequent flier miles are generally subject to enormous fees…
Kurt: “Rachel, I’m going. I need to see him. I haven’t seen him since. I’m not sleeping. I’m living off of ambien and The Notebook.“
So it’s settled — The New Rachel and Kurt Are Going To Ohio!
Smear back to Lima, where The Slumber Party is kicking off with Krispy Kream donuts, Kettle Corn, hymen-related conversations and lots of cute pajamas. It’s all a set-up for “Look At Me, I’m Sandra Dee,” but regardless it’s heart-warming to see Unique’s effortless and unquestioned inclusion in an all-girls slumber party.
Glee’s always been so heavy-handed about its Issue Episodes, stuffing them with Important Conversations and Very Special Relationships, and that’s all well/good, but Glee’s messages are, in fact, more effective when they’re subtle: like Unique being “one of the girls” at a slumber party, Santana & Brittany’s re-gendered cover of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” and the beautiful spectacle of two same-sex couples dancing together at Senior Prom. What I’m saying is Glee doesn’t need to try as hard as it does.
Anyhow, this scene’s meant to mirror the same scene from Grease, in which Rizzo pulls Sandy into the bathroom and implores her to losen up a bit by letting Frenchy pierce her ears right that very minute.
But in the Glee version, it’s Fake Quinn luring Marley into the bathroom to teach her how to vomit just in case Marley is a total fucking idiot and: 1) Thinks bulimia is a solid weight loss strategy, 2) Doesn’t already know how to vomit.
Marley: “I don’t want to make myself vomit — that’s gross.”
Fake Quinn: “You know what’s more gross? Having your gelatinous, corpulent six-ton stomach explode blood and pudding and sour cream and chili cheese fries just because you didn’t love yourself enough to binge and purge.”
Kids don’t try this at home, it’s an eating disorder and can kill you or at least really fuck up your teeth and emotional well-being. Also, when an Issue Episode is about an issue near/dear to my heart, it’s impossible for me to talk about it without raging for 4,000 words, so I’m just gonna emotionally detach myself from this situation and proceed like a bunny on horse tranquilizers!
We consequently shimmy out to the bedroom for that “Look At Me, I’m Sandra Dee” number, starring Fake Quinn as Marley in her “Newsies hat” and “mud-brown hair,” doing the original more-or-less move-for-move shot-for-shot. I wish they’d changed “Troy Donahue” to “Francine Beppu.”
It’s cute and jammies are cute, but in the original it was Rizzo and her friends mocking Sandy, and in this one it’s Patty Simcox and Sandy’s friends mocking Sandy. You know? Also, “Even Rock Hudson lost his heart to Doris Day” has a whole new meaning in an era when everybody knows that Rock Hudson actually lost his heart to Boris GAYAYAYAYAYYY.
Cut to the bowels of McKinley High School’s opulent offices, where Mr. Unique (a.k.a. Big Mike) and Mrs. Unique have summoned their progeny in response to Principal Figgins’ idea to call and congratulate them on Unique’s casting as Rizzo in the school play.
Mrs. Unique: “Look, ever since Wade was a little boy, we knew that he was different.”
Big Mike: “Most little boys don’t want to dress as Shirley Hemphill for Halloweeen.I mean, it’s just so specific.”
Apparently, Big Mike and Mrs. Unique were tickled to see Unique dressed up at Nationals in Chicago but are less enthused about seeing Unique dressed up at the McKinley High School Musical in Lima, Ohio. They’re pulling her from the play.
Unique says they’re overreacting, but Sue interjects that she’s seen Unique assaulted in the hallway. So… is she now using the threat of bullying to enforce conformity or to ruin Glee Club or because she’s back to genuinely caring this week? How does this fit in to her attitude last week NEVER MIND I SHOULD STOP THINKING
Finn’s pissed and Unique is heartbroken. Because McKinley High School Musicals forego understudies in favor of High Drama, now they’ve gotta find a new Rizzo. WHO WILL BE THE NEW RIZZO?
Yup, Finn’s called in Santana on short notice, but Artie’s not sure she can effectively step in this late in the game:
Santana: “I was born to play this role. I’ve known it by heart since I was one, Artie, come on.”
Santana’s return has caused Brittany’s little face to light up like a Christmas tree but everybody’s Tickle-Me-Awkward when Tina bursts in, announcing that she can do it and will be off-book by Friday but might need the script for the second act.
Tina’s consequentially crestfallen to see that Santana’s teleported here from Kentucky to play the role. Besides, who will be Jan if Tina’s not Jan? THEY STILL HAVEN’T CAST A MARTY.
Cut to a few hours, days or weeks later to the Hallowed Halls of McKinley High, where the Prodigal Suns have returned to their alma matter in search of closure and Broadway-worthy set design. The duo is effectively conflicted and nostalgic about said Hallowed Halls — it’s incredible how much distance you feel from your high school years after only a month or three away, because during that month or three you’ve been on your own and grown so fast the old places just don’t fit right anymore.
They’re reminiscing about that time this or that happened when Mercedes shows up, also remembering when this or that happened and she was there. Mercedes, also eons older than she was last season, says she’s super-busy with UCLA classes, her back-up vocals job, and fielding requests from Puck to hook her up with Sugar Mommas.
Backstage, Marley’s having a crisis ’cause her dress doesn’t fit. Yawn. Tina’s curious how Marley could’ve gained two inches in one day, especially while starving herself! Nobody mentions the uncomfortable fact that all of Marley’s clothes fit the same except this outfit! Sidenote, I’m concerned about her ability to perform in a musical on a diet of Saltines and chewing gum.
Thus Fake Quinn escorts Marley to the shrine of the porcelain goddess to throw up for no reason. Meanwhile, Lea/Kurt run into Finn/Blaine and it’s super awkward. Blaine sort of recedes into himself while Finn, ever the cocky giant, proudly states he’s thrilled they came to his Country Jamboree.
Before anybody can extract their broken hearts from their ribcages and swap them for newer models, Finn and Blaine have to go prep for the show.
Kurt: “You were right, it was a mistake to come.”
The New Improved Rachel says that’s not true and everything will be fine. It’s a high school production of Grease, what could possibly suck?
Cut to “Beauty School Dropout,” another exact re-creation, this time starring Blaine as Teen Angel and Sugar as Frenchy, The Role She Was Born to Play. Teen Angel’s clearly Rex Manning’s godfather, sidenote.
Even wearing bedsheets with 56 rolls of tinfoil affixed to their brains, Santana and Brittany still manage to give each other silent sexy eyes while nearly toe-tapping their silver dancing shoes. Maybe I’m projecting. Kurt and Blaine shoot each other one forlorn but disturbed glance:
Smear to the ladies room, where Ryder Bieber-Strong catches Marley in the stage of almost-vomiting guaranteed to transform your eyeballs into crazy, watering drugged-out orbs of pain and possibly pop a blood vessel and definitely hurt your throat. (Pro tip: If you’re gonna do an eating disorder storyline, it’s probs best to root it in something deeper than a popular cheerleader’s three-day practical joke with no basis in actual reality.)
Ryder, high on The Themes of Glee, stops his maiden in her tracks and imparts a charming anecdote:
Ryder: “Google Johnny Poppas. He’s my second cousin. He was a wrestler at Bowling Green and the coach was always making him drop weight. So Johnny did all the crazy diets and puked every day and when that stopped working he used laxatives. Then last march, in the middle of a match—”
Marley: “He died?”
Ryder Bieber-Strong: “He crapped himself in front of the whole school.”
Ryder tells Marley he doesn’t wanna kiss someone with puke breath, during or after the show WINK WINK, which snaps her right into shape. Yay! Boys fix all the things!
Meanwhile backstage, Brittany and Santana are not having sex — but they’re talking about their (heart-shaped) feelings!!
Brittany: “I miss you.”
Santana: “I miss you too. The only reason I came back was so that I could see you again.”
Brittany: “Well, I’m not dating anyone new, boy or girl.”
Santana: “Brit, we talked about this. And it would be fine if you were… I’m glad that you’re not.”
Santana’s gotta be prepping emotionally for her big number, There Are Worse Things I Could Do, which’s from when Rizzo thinks she’s been knocked up. Obviously this made zero sense to me as a wee Grease fanatic and I usually zoned out during this scene. Santana insists she’s fine without excessive prep.
Brittany: “Yeah but this is like a sad song, right? So you have to think of something that makes you like really sad. Like how we’re not together anymore and it’s okay, but it still hurts a little bit. Especially on Friday nights because that was our date night.”
There’s a moment of sad, sweet recognition of how much sweeter and simpler things were then, and Santana looks briefly in the mirror like an actress unsure of where her storyline is going and then someone arrives to call Santana onstage.
There Are Worse Things I Could Do is Santana’s number, but it splits almost immediately from her stripped-down solo into a montage featuring Kate Hudson and Geyerdean’s Insufferable Sexually-Tense Dance Project Rehearsal and Unique, wilting sadly in the cheap seats.
The Hudson/Geyerdean hookup unfortunately reminds me of the Nikki/Shane hookup interrupting Tina & Bette’s fantastic Tango Of Love in Episode 604 of The L Word, which isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned that on this show, and their inevitable end-of-song hookup feels cheap and inconsistent with what we’ve seen of Geyerdean so far.
But Unique’s bold and heartsick solo on “I don’t steal and I don’t lie, but I can feel” is a gut-puncher — another one of those incidental Glee moments that reveal leagues more than its more deliberate tearjerkers do, because it’s literally true — and it’s quickly followed by Santana’s similarly affecting “and I can cry, a fact I’ll bet you never knew.” So when we swing to Brittany in the wings and see Santana catch her nearly-teary eye, it’s a solid heart-puncher, no way around it.
Cut to backstage, where everybody’s having Difficult Conversations ’cause “right before you go on stage” is a perfect time for such things. This time, it’s Mike and Tina — Mike thinks they should get back together but Tina’s not so sure. She enjoys her newfound feeling. She says they can talk about it, so look forward to an update on that in Episode 706.
Cut to four or six minutes later, when Marley emerges from the costume room in the skin-sucking signature black leather spandex get-up made legendary by the stick-thin Olivia Newton-John!
Ryder Bieber-Strong immediately notices that the power Marley’s supplying is electrifying. Marley feels like the outfit’s too tight. Maybe she’s a method actress and has worn nothing but her costumes for three weeks.
Fake Quinn pops up to inform the budding young lovers that some hack from the McKinley Muckracker is in the audience and will likely shred their egos into Kibbles & Bits.
Idiot Marley is successfully psyched, but Ryder Bieber-Strong quickly calms her jitters by sticking his tongue down her throat.
It’s time for “You’re The One That I Want,” my favorite and my mother’s least favorite scene in the film. Apparently the message that “the best way to Get A Man is to dress like a 70’s porn star, smoke cigarettes and pretend to be something you’re not” didn’t sit well with her feminist sensibilities. It’s definitely inconsistent with the “love yourself for who you are” Glee message, and the “YOU DO YOU” Autostraddle message. But whatever. Oh, also:
Me: [screaming incredulously] “This song isn’t in the musical it’s only in the movie!!”
My girlfriend: “Oh bless your heart.”
Here’s the original from the movie:
Despite relatively light character development overall, Marley and Ryder Bieber-Strong sell their romantic connection in this song — all tied up in the bloom of youth and awkward attempts to blend into their new surroundings.
They carry the scene handily enough until it morphs into The New Rachel’s trip down memory lane to when her and Finn did the song in Glee Club during Season One, which involves lots of horrifying Finn close-ups.
Then for 30 or so magical seconds, the collective fantasies of all Glee Club members are played out as Kurt & Blaine, Mike & Tina, Brittany & Santana and Finn & Rachel are the ones onstage singing and sticking their groins out.
See for yourself:
We then cut to The Bathroom, where Rachel’s escaped the show to have feelings but unfortunately, unlike last season and the one before, it’s unlikely Quinn’s gonna show up for some subtext-heavy heart-to-heart. Thus Rachel dials Geyerdean — but Kate Hudson picks up.
Rachel’s unsure why she’s talking to K-Hud and not G-Dude, who K-Hud says is in the shower. So this happens:
Kate Hudson: “Uh, let’s see. You blew off your playdate with the hottest piece of ass at NYADA to go visit your loser ex-boyfriend. Said hot-ass was lonely, distraught, didn’t know what to do with himself, and was more than happy to come help me choreograph a new routine when I called him up, and then one thing led to another and the next thing you know he’s at my place and you know —”
Rachel: “So, you and Brody.” [beat] “Why?”
Kate Hudson: “Why don’t we consider this one of those little nasty life lessons? Auditioning for an off-Broadway play, throwing yourself at an upperclassman and telling me that I need to get back in the game. That I need to get back in the game? I think you were overreaching and you need a little reminding. I am the game, Schwimmer, and you are what you’ve always been: a privileged, self-indulgent—”
Rachel hangs up and starts crying.
Cut to the hallway, where Rachel runs right into Finn.
Finn’s upset that Rachel’s crying over somebody else instead of him and so they decide not to talk to each other anymore:
Rachel: “You know I don’t know what’s gonna happen between us but I know that you used to be the guy that would make me feel like the most special girl in the whole world, and it doesn’t feel that way anymore. Now it just feels sad and confusing and the worst part is that it doesn’t even really feel that bad anymore.”
Finn: “And whatever happened with that Brody guy made you cry, and this doesn’t.”
Then Kurt shows up and Rachel says McKinley doesn’t feel like home anymore, and before I can wonder how Burt, Hiram & Leroy might feel about this — HEY-O it’s Teen Angel!
Blaine wants to talk to Kurt and explain himself and I know Kurt’s mad and everybody’s on Kurt’s side but why did Kurt come all the way out here to see Blaine if he doesn’t actually want to see Blaine?
Blaine: “I never told you about what happened. The guy that I hooked up with —”
Kurt: “What are you gonna tell me? That it wasn’t serious? That you only made out? That you didn’t care about him?”
Blaine: “I didn’t care —”
Kurt: “Do you think any of that matters to me? Relationships are about trust and I don’t trust you anymore. I was stupid to come back. Rachel’s right, this isn’t home anymore.”
Relationships are also about listening to each other, caring about each other, taking an interest in each other’s lives and not being a self-centered douche — and Kurt had yet to exhibit one ounce of care or interest in Blaine since moving to New York City, circumstances which quickly conspired to make Blaine feel unwanted and vulnerable. I’m not excusing Blaine’s actions, but Kurt’s sanctimonious attitude here is grating and unnecessary.
Smear to The Glee Club room for a roundabout read of the Muckracker’s rave review of Grease! There’s some bullshit about Finn being Michalangelo which in turn robs the Muckracker of any remaining thread of journalistic integrity.
Then Will gives a speech and I fall asleep while Finn and Will give each other a bro-hug.
Next week on Glee: