Somewhere between uptown and downtown, I realized I was fucked. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was exhaustion, or too much soy, or maybe it was food poisoning or that old black magic. I was biking home and felt like I could fly, maybe, like they did in ET.
The last thing I remember before everything turned to Glee was being in my apartment, thinking “my head is made of stars and my pillow is a cloud,” and lying on my bed.
Later, I’d wake up but I wouldn’t actually wake up at all, because later I’d wake up in Glee.
The first thing I hear when I start hearing things again is the opening chirps of “All I Want For Christmas is You,” and before opening my eyes I’m 75% sure I’ll wake up in a winter wonderland containing more cheery chirps and Mariah Carey looking stoned in a white-fur-trimmed red snowsuit:
See, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” is one of my favorite songs of all time. The song’s appearance in Love Actually was the only part of that terrible movie that didn’t make me want to light my face on fire. There was that time I pulled over at a gas station somewhere between Toledo and Columbus to burn “All I Want For Christmas is You,” 12 times, onto a CD-R, so that I could pop it in the CD player and listen to nothing but that song ’til I got to Grove City.
But the first thing I see when I start seeing things again isn’t Mariah Carey on a sled.
It’s Mercedes, wearing a beautiful rack-flattering plum-colored dress, in The Glee Room, decorating a Christmas tree for no reason!
Yup, I’ve dived head-first into what I’ll call Magical Mystery Glee, where everything’s totally fucked up, and I’m there too, but I can’t see myself, and sometimes I’m watching the episode, sometimes I’m the camera, and sometimes I’m a Pirate Queen on a mission to spread Brittana Love throughout the nation. It’s like a wacky drug test and this shit is B-A-N-A-N-A-S and oh, it doesn’t get any better.
I once heard that the only thing more boring than listening to someone describe their dream is to listen to someone describe their acid trip, but seriously this little “episode” is totally worth telling.
So everybody’s there — the entirety of The New Troubletones. Pretty wrapped boxes of packing peanuts are stacked high on tables recently constructed by Western Ohio’s Pop-Up Three-Piece Backup Band. Mercedes and Finn, with constipated facial expressions, are unfurling a roll of wrapping paper for Mike Chang to burst through, trained-seal-style, and behind them, Kurt’s dancing a jig with a CANE in plaid pajama pants and a sweater he stole from Mother Hubbard while Blaine snatched Cookie Monster’s Monsterpiece Theater get-up.
Brittany and Santana decorate Mercedes like she’s a tree, and as Mercedes sings all the children attempt to strangle each other with giant tinsel boas, except Santana and Brittany, who attempt to merge into one body by wrapping themselves momentarily in a giant tinsel boa.
It doesn’t work.
Magical Mystery Glee is even more confusing than actual Glee. In Magical Mystery Glee; Mercedes and Sam are together and her ex-boyfriend never existed, Blaine and Kurt are on the football team, that Senior Class President thing never happened, everybody actually gives a shit about Irish Breakfast, Rachel isn’t Jewish, Puck isn’t Jewish, Sam is maybe-bisexual, Irish Breakfast is maybe-bicurious and Klaine and Finchel haven’t had sex yet. Also, Rachel’s become like oddly status-conscious and super-bitchy about material possessions and sometimes is not Rachel but is Lea Michele, I think, and then later is Dorothy Gale, or Joan Crawford, or a butterfly.
At the end of this song, Rachel & Finn stick their tongues down each other’s throats like two horny high school teenagers and my head does backflips, torturing me with image upon image of this unholy union that has nothing to do with the relationship I was rooting for two years ago. Every kiss is like Finn’s face in a salty open wound.
And that’s when a demonic voice from above tells me that I’ve come here, to Magic Mystery Glee, to find proof that Brittany and Santana are a real couple.
My mission as I believe it to be at that time is to summon Brittana proof for Ryan Murphy or else risk Christmas and Hannukah getting cancelled. Obvs this is a whacked out drug trip dreamstate where this kind of shit makes perfect sense.
So, back in the Hashish Hallways of McKinley High, Rachel’s presenting Finn with a gift list which includes personal delights such as “spray-tan” and “teeth whitening,” and Finn tells Rachel “all I want for Christmas is you” and then she says, “All I want for Christmas is you, too. And five things on that list,” and then they kiss AGAIN.
Swing over to Sue’s office, where she says a bunch of crazy shit including something about Sarah Palin and reindeer hunting and then rallies Artie, Kurt and Blaine, all adorned in inexcusable holiday attire, to come torture the homeless with a Maroon 5 Mash-up on Christmas Eve.
Then we’re back in the Gayly Garnished Glee Room, where Finn’s killed William Goodboy, eaten him, and taken over Glee Club!
Irish Breakfast says something unbalanced about missing his Potato Family and the children delight as he serenades them with “Blue Christmas” and his chain wallet.
The kids are still dressed up for a Very Merry Christmas, except Kurt, who’s sporting a Ski Bunny Safari look complete with camouflage and ear-warmers, ’cause after this class he’s heading straight for Killington.
As Blue Christmas FINALLY ends, Santana says, “Gosh, that song was so depressing, I think I might actually be dead right now.”
Then Rachel The Non-Jew waxes on about the spirit of Christmas or some bullshit that her character would never say and Tina pipes in claiming last year Glee Club Christmas was like The Island of Misfit Toys, which’s the first of many Magical Mystery Moments in which a teenager will reference something only my Grandmother knows about.
Also, Santana and Brittany are sitting farther apart than we are from Russia, so I’m like FUCK, the voices in my head are gonna conspire and blow out my brain from the inside like a coal mine.
Suddenly William Goodboy shows up, also obscenely festive in a plaid-vest situation, and announces nobody’s getting coal in their stockings this year ’cause everybody’s gonna be on television, which is the obvious opposite of “coal in a stocking.”
William Goodboy explains that Mr. Television Man was “blown away” by how many songs The New Directions got to sing at Sectionals and wants them in his Glee Christmas Special, and then like ten seconds later, William Goodboy explains that Mr. Television Man was blown away by Arite’s Dawson-Leary-esque supreme co-direction skills at West Side Story and wants Artie to direct his Glee Special.
This Television Guy guy is like, heavy into McKinley High. Like McKinley High is this major cultural institution, like the Smithsonian.
Then there’s this weird part of this trip/dream where I’m underground and the cave walls are lined with glee tumblrs on tiny shiny screens and the Rachel/Finn version of “Last Christmas” (from Last Christmas) is playing over and over, and I’m screaming that I’ve gotta find Brittana Truth, bring it back to Haymitch, and make Dorothy Snarker post it on her tumblr, or else the Whos in Whoville will run out of tampons.
Then there’s these two deer, and I realize that the deer ARE Brittany and Santana!
BUT THEN, next thing I know…
…we’re back in the Hysterical Hallways of McKinley Magical Mystery High, where Irish Breakfast drops his books so that Sam has an excuse to talk to him. Sam — who is actually Heath Ledger in Sam’s body — saddles up to Irish Breakfast’s locker, which’s decorated from head to waist with stock photography and trinkets from the St.Patrick’s Day Closeout Sale at that store in the mall, to have a man-to-man.
Although Irish Breakfast’s parents reside one ocean and 30,000 miles away and Sam Heathledger’s within a few hours of his allegedly impoverished family, Sam parallels the two experiences, and then parlays that into inviting Irish Breakfast over for Christmas Dinner with Jake Gyllenhaal and Alvin and the Chipmunks. Sam is like, “I’ll be your Christmas Sponsor,” and I’m like “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKERY!?!” but then I remind myself that this isn’t real, it’s just fevered hallucinations, so it doesn’t have to make sense.
Irish Breakfast drops that Brit-Brit & Fam are “going on a trip to see a gay Santa, Santa Fe” and at first I’m like PARTY and then I’m like; FUCK! ’cause this fucks with my ability to get the golden proof that Santana and Brittany are actually girlfriends and twitpic it and if I don’t do that I’ll become pregnant with Arlene’s Devilbaby from True Blood. High stakes Christmas.
A character actor with a face like a pincushion calls Artie a “modern day Tiny Tim” and then Chewbacca tells Artie that he’s gotta fit Star Wars into his Christmas Special.
Then! THEN! THIS:
Right? What the fuck? So, obviously, I’m like THIS:
and then like this:
and then we’re back to this:
SORRY, not that, but THIS:
Then Artie tells Mr.Television that it’s gonna be in black and white as an homage to The Judy Garland Christmas Special, which happened in 1963. But like — WHOA — Judy Garland!? Major throwback!
So in Magical Mystery Glee I guess Artie is gay.
Cut to, I think, the auditorium, which Dasher and Dancer have decorated with snow-frosted Christmas Trees donated by Sugar Motta’s benevolent father figure. Lea’s wearing a green dress singing Joni Mitchell’s River and it’s super sad, in a way, but it’s also snowing.
Artie says “River” has harshed his mellow and made him suicidal and additional words come out of Rachel’s mouth while I frantically search for any sign of Lima’s Favorite Lesbians but all I can confirm is Brittany’s shoulder and then, eventually, her sad sad face!
You wanna know who’s bummed? BRITTANY. Girlfriend is BUMMED the FUCK OUT. Like she’s a somber cheerleader dropped into Ghost World and is now smart enough to be cynical about everything. Sometimes she looks like this:
And sometimes it’s more like this:
And then oftentimes, she appeared like so:
Whatevs, back to THIS hootenanny:
Artie’s volleying with The Gays on the topic of Frosty the Snowman, yay or nay, and suddenly Sam gets really dramatic and quits the Glee Christmas Specialtabtacular. He’s gonna find a red bucket and spend the night outside of Odd Lots, pretending to be the Salvation Army and collecting change for The Poor.
Then we’re back in the Hussy Hallways of McKinley High where Rachel (locker adorned with a rainbow flag and Cory Monteith’s headshot), overtaken by The Spirit of Kim Kardashian (as it was written by Finn mere moments ago), demands “bling,” which’s clearly my subconscious re-routing back to this:
Back to Finn (who’s actually Jesus, but I’ll explain that later), who’s got a present for Rachel and it doesn’t look like a Sno-Cone machine.
It isn’t, it’s a Pig which’ll somehow feed a family with #thirdworldproblems, because as I said (and will explain later) Finn isn’t actually Finn in this dream (thank GOD) but a really dopey-looking Jesus Figure.
Rachel’s like, “I’m a vegan,” and I scream YOU’RE ALSO JEWISH AND THEREFORE DON’T EAT PORK ANYHOW and this whole situation is clearly my subconscious addressing my own guilt that we’ve been using the word “Christmas” a lot on Autostraddle to describe “the holidays” which totally contributes to Jewish Erasure and me, me OF ALL PEOPLE, should know better, because I am a Jew.
Right, so! Then suddenly we’re back at the Winter Wonderland of The Glee Room! Rachel and Blaine perform a forgettable rendition of a Christmas song I’ve never heard before and I’m trying to Jedi Mind Control Brittany and Santana, in matching knee-socks and the Winter Edition of the Cheerios Uniform, into a frottage situation.
Brittany and Santana jump out of their pants to dance a dance of romance, briefly, but soon enough they’re back in their chairs, not making out.
Sue, who is almost but not quite a totally different person this in Magical Mystery Glee, is drawn to the Glee Room by a psychic force of scriptwriting magic. She wants to confirm the Gleeks will be do-gooding that Friday with Teh Homeless but they’re totally over it because of the Christmas Show Spectacular on Television. Artie and Sue fight like Artie is the adult and Sue is a kind child with a nice haircut who just wants to feed all the animals. It’s super weird.
Sue asks the room for confirmation that they’re ditching the needy to meet their own needs and Quinn stares at the wall like she just got an abortion.
And then — I wake up.
Not for long, though. So, I rise and drink four glases of water like water is going out of style, and then feel woozy and lie down again and this time I wake up in outer space except actually it’s not, and I’m watching Magical Mystery Glee, but in this totally different dream world that is supposed to be “television” and it’s all in black and white but not yet. Because it’s The Past, but it’s also right now, and nobody’s Jewish, and all of these singles will be available on itunes for less than you’d pay to sponsor a child in need.
Unfortunately, if I’m unable to prove that Santana and Brittany are lesbian lovers than I’ll have to send an Autostraddle Team Member to the reaping — so I’m devastated to see Santana and Brittany introduced as merely the foreground of a gaggle of Other Cheerios. They’ll never make out in front of the other Cheerios. That’s like, the rules of lesbianism.
Like a stab in the subconscious from an axe murderer, we’re shuttled along, Star Tours Style, to Chalet Glee Garland Garden, which’s owned by the OTHER gay couple:
Then everything goes black and white, and Blaine and Kurt are suddenly like, the owners of this chalet conveniently located in the backlot of Gold Star Chili, spreading homosexuality to all the young gay boys of the 1960s.
The boys are gesticulating wildly, snapping compulsively, and delightfully singing “Let it Snow” from start to finish while Brittany and Santana remain in the dugout, chomping on bubble gum and wondering when Brittana Will Be On. I can’t see that Brittany-Santana part, obvs, I just know it’s happening, because I’m all-knowing.
Clearly the same thing happened to these fellas last year — they were forced to acclimate to the indoors on account of blustery snowdrifts of freezing cold winter wonderlands and subsequently required to sing about their weathered situation — except this time it’s slightly less rapey. Because in my imaginary world, everything’s a lot less rapey.
At the song’s end, Blaine and Kurt turn to the camera and begin to address us directly, which at first looks like this:
… but then it looks like THIS:
Kurt: “I’m Kurt Hummel one of your hosts this evening, and this is my best friend and Holiday Roommate, Blaine Anderson.”
Blaine: “Welcome to our bachelor chalet.”
This crazy ass motherfuckery is as fucked as it is funny. There’s some fuss over Kurt’s ebay bid on a laser-powered diamond necklace transporter, which is from a different time period but whatever, it’s just a device to lead us to the next plot twist (aka “message for me from the droids”) which is that THE INTERNET IS DOWN.
Then I’m flipping out like a flapjack because everyone knows Brittana really only actually exists on the internet, we’ll never find them on the show itself, let alone a show-within-a-show-within-an-acid-trip!
Anyhow, so what happens next? Well, in Magical Mystery Glee, Rachel and Mercedes are besties and Rachel is also bisexual, thus the rubber gloves, and then she becomes an old-timey actress I can’t identify but it’s way more delightful than her traditional personality! It’s ten thousand times crazier and funnier than she’s been all season.
My jaw hurts in solidarity with these children who are sporting smiles as strained as Saran Wrap over a giant casserole. Then there’s this weirdness:
Rachel: “Blaine, this is for you –”
Blaine: “Oh! Why thank you so much, Rachel!”
Rachel: [to us in a funny voice] “It’s a bowtie with little Christmas trees on it!”
Blaine: “Would you look at that?”
Rachel: “Would you look at that!! — there’s a little surprise under the wrapping paper…”
Blaine: “Why they’re candy-cane striped capri pants! You know, what the best part is, I actually don’t already own a pair! If you can believe that!”
Kurt: “Jewels and short pants and bowties and good friends, truly this is an ideal evening.”
We pause for a delightful presentation of “My Favorite Things,” a single you can buy on itunes for only $1.99. Kurt says he forgot to turn on the oven and also, this:
Kurt: “And then I said to Justin Timberlake, that’s not egg nog!”
And also this:
Blaine: “Geez you guys, it’s really coming out down there.”
Kurt: “Blaine is right, you guys. Global climate change is no laughing matter. Our over-reliance on fossil fuels is causing erratic weather patterns like this one — [gestures towards the window]”
Right? Random, but funny!
Then! THEN! Finn and Puck arrive dressed as Luke Skywalker and Han Solo because that is precisely how much shit is out of hand. Oh also, Santa Claus is coming to town, but you probs already knew that. It happens every year.
Finn knows how to operate a tambourine and is singing a song that’s actually in his range, but it’s mostly a blur, though I do remember feeling like this:
Oh, who’s this at the door?! Obviously it’s the Cheerios Rhythm Gymnastics Team, lead by Heather Morris, dressed in porny Santa outfits and white Go-Go-Boots! They’re singing a song I recognize from a recent nightmare and every time the “camera” moseys over to Brittana area, it cuts immediately, and our necks are snapped like owl-necks, but we survive.
AND then — AND THEN! — and this is when I’m sure this is a drug thing or a fairy thing because my brain could not come up with this complete tomfoolery, AND THEN Irish Breakfast shows up, in an elf outfit, with a miniature book he refuses to read Frosty the Snowman from.
Kurt: “We asked our friend Itchy to stop by and read us a lighthearted, heartwarming, upbeat happy Christmas tale, Frosty the Snowman.”
Itchy the Christmas Elf: “Actually I was going to read that, but I searched my heart and I’m going to read one from a different book.”
I’m 95% sure that he’s gonna whip out Ulysses and we’ll be stuck in this limbo hell until Valentines Day, but instead he reads, I think, The Bible? Everyone stares at him like they’re really into Jesus.
In one or two group shots one can see that Brittany and Santana are holding hands, which isn’t enough. Which means I can’t save Christmas. Also that thing about Brittany going to Santa Fe isn’t true anymore, and she’s not too happy about it:
When Irish Breakfast says “Christ Our Lord,” Rachel Berry shoots a look at Finn, because Finn is Jesus Christ.
So then that whole part is just over and we’re back in color at The House of Good Deeds, where Quinn and Sam are serving baked ziti to the best-dressed group of homeless people I’ve ever seen. Sam says he’d heard Quinn had a rough year but that she seems fine to him, because in Magical Mystery Glee he didn’t talk to her about her rough year exactly seven days ago and declare her issues #whitegirlproblems.
Then WHO’S AT THE DOOR? It’s Artie, some more random children, Emma, and a giant turkey! The gang says that Itchy the Elf’s little Sunday School episode inspired them all to come to the Home of Good Deeds, after they were done filming their show, which, like EVERYTHING that happened during this Coma to End and Begin all Comas, has nothing to do with anything and doesn’t make any sense at all!
Before anyone else can say something embarrassing, it’s time for another musical number. Finn warbles and everyone pretends to like it because he’s Jesus and Jesus has a lot of power.
Mike Chang is dancing with a twelve-year-old and nobody opens any presents because they are all filled with copies of the Glee Christmas Album. A few kids are listening to Irish Breakfast read a story with no fucking idea what he’s saying. Do they know it’s Christmas? I feel like they don’t.
Rachel is back to being actual Rachel and actual Rachel named the pig Barbara and I’m like, fuck, there are like no minutes left, the countdown is on.
Then Finn gives Rachel a star he named after himself, which she hangs up next to the coupons for back massages and other theoretical Finn presents represented by pieces of paper, and then he gives Rachel earrings which she sticks in a Salvation Army bucket.
Then Irish Breakfast asks Sam to be his Valentine’s Day Sponsor because at this part in Magical Mystery Glee, they are both gay.
I guess this is when it hits me — gradually, and then suddenly — that we’re out of minutes, that my head hurts, that I can’t save Christmas after all. That I’m going to wake up from this fever dream with a gnawing pit of emptiness that can only be filled by fulfilling my mission to prove Brittany and Santana are truly in love. I’ve failed on my mission! I’ve FAILED! And just as I admit defeat, I wake up, feel terrible all over again, and then remember that it was just a dream so it doesn’t matter, and then I remember that actually w/r/t Brittana, that dream is not so different than reality, so then I get sad again.
I roll over on my mattress and there’s my girlfriend, right there, on her tiny computer accessing The Internet, and I wonder if she’s been here this whole time and if I talked in my sleep. But it sounds like she’s watching Glee, which I realize I missed while I was sleeping, but as I strain to see her screen she tells me it’s over and I ask her if it’s worth watching or recapping. She tells me, “The highlight of this week’s episode of Glee was the BevMo commercial.”
So I flip on my own laptop and the only thing I see is this picture of Ryan Murphy, staring right back at me:
Happy Holidays, Motherfuckers!