Then I'll be glad to fill you in. After your presumptuous statements about the nature of my relationship with my best friend after you informed me about the nature of your relationships with Finn and Jesse, you went into hiding. Did I care? Not really. But you know what? I've been wondering where you were. Regardless of St. James' desires for me to lay off, I've been meaning to take care of you for that mess that happened in New York. Which, I'm sure, you also don't recall, but I think if I beat you into submission now, I might be able to change the course of time and set things right.
[ where are the people who are supposed to hold you back during these times ]
Look, Santana, I'm very sorry for what happened in New York. That was completely my fault, and I should have thought of the team, and not myself. I swear I'll make up for it. But, um, I don't recall saying anything about you and Brittany to your face.
This place gets hundreds of new, shiny, and annoying people, and it ends up with two Rachel Berrys? Are you kidding me? Did hell forget to freeze over? Because it still feels like summer out here in the sticks and this has got to be hell itself.
Not that I'm imagining it or anything because I would actually have to test the theory of brain bleach, but I think in all likelihood, that duet would end with you seeing if camp's no sex rule extends when you're trying it out on yourself.
Honestly, it's just stepping it up from yourself and your mirror, which you've probably also named after yourself just so you didn't get confused at the reflection starting back at you.
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[ I think ]
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Look, Santana, I'm very sorry for what happened in New York. That was completely my fault, and I should have thought of the team, and not myself. I swear I'll make up for it. But, um, I don't recall saying anything about you and Brittany to your face.
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[waaaaaaait]
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To listen to me duet with myself.
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