“Don’t get hot and flustered. Just use a bit of mustard! You’re a hot dog but you’d better not try to hurt her, Frank Furter!” -Ensemble, ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’
Alright, I admit it the whole Duets thing was the beginning of my crush on Mister Schue.
I was crushing hard but I didn’t realize that okay? I mean I’m so good at repressing that I allowed myself to believe Quinn got pregnant via hot tub. So yeah, I was crushing but I convinced myself it was a man-crush, you know? I totally admired Mister Schue and I thought he was awesome and funny and stuff. Lots of guys have man crushes. It’s totally normal.
See? I was really good at that repression thing.
So you know when we went out to dinner at the Mexican restaurant…it was just that to me: a dinner. I went out to dinner with my friends all the time. And yes, I considered Mister Schue a friend at this point because after all that time I spent hanging out with him, he was my friend.
And yes, in case you were wondering, the burritos were the size of my head and they were delicious.
It was fun, you know? Mister Schue and I didn’t talk about school or glee. We talked about movies and books and stuff like that. Well Mister Schue talked more about books then I did, but movies and TV shows was something I could talk comfortably.
It was pretty awesome too. Like Mister Schue kept on telling stories, going to see midnight showings for each Harry Potter movie. He even does this wicked, dead on Snape impersonation which had me roaring. And then dinner was winding down and I was stuffed with burrito-y goodness.
But I didn’t want to go home. Mom was on a date with Burt. Everyone else was busy that night too. So I didn’t want to face a lonely, empty house even though I could’ve played X-box Live or something. It just wasn’t clicking for me after a night of good food and awesome conversation.
As Mister Schue was paying for dinner, I took a leap of faith.
“Do you to go catch a movie or something? I mean I don’t know if it’s appropriate but I really don’t want to go home to an empty house right now. Especially since everyone’s busy tonight.”
Mister Schue paused for a moment and I was like ninety-seven percent certain that he was going to say how inappropriate it was but instead he smiled.
“Do you want to see a really, truly, absolutely terrible movie?”
And those were the words that got me to see my virgin showing of Rocky Horror. I wished that Mister Schue would have warned me instead of waltzing into the theatre and screaming at the top of his lungs, “VIRGIN!!!”
To which I replied, “Am not!”
And then I realized he meant a virgin of the show.
Whoa boy was my face red.
(We happily pretended that outburst didn’t happen.)
So I ended up with a ‘V’ painted on my forehead, dragged to the front of the theatre, where I was entered into a ‘Which virgin can put the condom on the banana faster?’ race.
Which I won. I got a trophy and the guy in the corset and panties gave me a kiss on the cheek and a grope of the ass.
Kind of weird, but I went to concerts with Puck where people were getting blow jobs like two feet away from me. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that has happened to me.
Will looked somewhere between amused and horrified when I finally was allowed to back to our seats. Once he realized I was just as amused as he was, he began to laugh. Which made me give him the evil eye. However, a giant tub of popcorn and blue Icee was peace offering enough.
We still had time for the show started so we talked more.
“So how long have you’ve been going to these shows?” I asked as I tried to catch popcorn into my mouth.
“Well I started my sophomore year of high school and I went regularly through college. I had to stop going once I was engaged to Terri and we were living together.”
“Oh that’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah I guess it is. I was a regular shadow cast member. I guess I came to do this every year because there is something so freeing about it. I mean I hope you see it. People are loud and the movie is just terrible. But it’s a place where outcasts and people who feel like outcasts can gather together and be themselves even if it’s for a couple hours. I mean it’s really fun and just so weirdly freeing.”
“Like glee?”
Mister Schue paused and smiled, “That’s a perfect analogy, Finn.”
And then the movie started.
I had no clue what was going on. It looked like the whole production budget was based on charity and whatever change the director could find in his couch cushions. Everyone was yelling lines and singing along and throwing stuff at the screen (which was kind of fun to do I admit I love me my super soakers). But I would sneak glances at Mister Schue who was going as nuts as everyone there.
It was true, unbridled joy. He was laughing and it was this warm laugh that made me feel like I had just drank some of Mom’s hot coco: kind of warm and floaty. His face was split in a grin and he was joking with all the other fans around him. He was truly loving every moment of it, you know?
It was kind of fun to see him cut loose like that.
And yeah, I definitely counted it as a victory in the: Let’s Make Mister Schue Happier Column.
So all in all the night was a total win.
Right up until we ran into Miss Pillsbury and Doctor Doom (aka Carl Howell) as we left the theatre.
“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey.” -The Criminologist
“So what did you think?” asked Mister Schue with an eager smile on his face.
Finn laughed before nodding, “Well you were right. This was a truly awful, terrible movie.”
“And…?” said the teacher in a sing-song voice before poking Finn in the ribs.
“And I loved it!” exclaimed Finn as he twirled the cheap little trophy he won in his hands.
“One of us! One of us!” chanted Mister Schue with a huge grin on his face. Finn doubled over in hysterics at the older man’s antics.
“Will?” questioned a soft, innocent female voice.
“Emma!”
“Hey Will buddy!”
“…Hello Carl.”
Finn shut his eyes and slowly started to curse in his head. He finally got Mister Schue laughing and joking and smiling a lot and freely. It was a good thing, a great thing. And of course like all good things, it had to come to spectacular end.
Fuck.
“Oh hello Finn!” greeted Miss Pillsbury.
“Hello, Miss Pillsbury,” returned Finn with a polite smile on his face.
“I didn’t realize that you were a Rocky Horror fan,” said Mister Schue with that fixed, fake smile on his face, “I actually thought that this wouldn’t be your scene.”
“Oh well, I’ve been a fan for years,” confided Miss Pillsbury as if telling a scandalous secret, “But I’ve never been to an actual showing of it because I was too afraid of well what they do to the virgins.”
Here three pairs of eyes went to Finn, who shrugged, “It wasn’t that bad.”
“No, it wasn’t baby,” purred the shadow actor of Frank ‘N’ Furter.
“Not in a million years,” said Finn dryly as he waved him along.
“So Carl bought the tickets and we snuck in just as the show started!”
“That was really nice of him,” said Mister Schue that smile still on his face.
“Yeah well I figure that Emma’s been making such progress lately,” drawled Carl as he put his arm around her shoulder, “that we should go out to celebrate.”
Finn noticed the very visible flinch that went across Mister Schue’s face.
“We should be going,” said Finn easily, “Mister Schue offered me a ride home.”
“Oh! Yes! Why were you two here though?”
Finn, who saw the flicker of panic in the teacher’s eyes, said, “I dated Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel is about to be my step-brother. I’ve heard about it. Saw the showing. I had nothing to do tonight so I went. I ran into Mister Schue after my Virgin Initiation and we just kind of sat together. Since I wasn’t sure which bus to take home, Mister Schue offered me a lift.”
“Oh well that’s very nice of you, Will,” said Miss Pillsbury delightedly.
“Of course dear old Will here is a saint,” asserted Carl, “C’mon Em. I’ll take you home.”
“Alright! Bye Will! Bye Finn!”
The pair watched them walk away and an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Mister Schue’s face was full of a sort of indescribable longing. Finn silently grinded his teeth together, after all that work and then this had to happen! What was the saying? One step forward, two steps back? Truer words.
Finn bit his lip, trying to think of a way to get that smile back on Mister Schue’s face. He then glanced up at the poster advertising the show. Then as if his mouth developed a mind of its own, as it so often does, Finn blurted out.
“We should do the show in glee!”
Mister Schue’s head whipped around and an eyebrow disappeared into his hairline.
“Excuse me?”
“We should do the show in glee,” said Finn again with more confidence, “You said people love this show. I mean they must love it performed live right? And the Cheerios get to hold all these skanky dance benefits and stuff so you can’t say it would be inappropriate. So we put on the show and use it to raise money to help with glee. Besides you know it like inside out and backwards so that’s something we can use to our advantage.”
Mister Schue looked on the fence so the Finn broke out the secret weapon.
“I mean we need the money. For the buses that have what Artie needs right? And we’ll need to start saving for Nationals. And people will obviously come to see it even if they know what happens.”
“Feeling ambitious, Finn?” murmured Mister Schue but a light was returning into his eyes.
Finn shrugged unapologetically, “Someone has to.”
“You know this sounds like a profoundly bad idea. We’ll need to draw up permission slips.”
“Some of the greatest triumphs started with profoundly bad ideas.”
“Yeah?”
“Well duh. I’m pretty certain that when Jefferson was writing up the Declaration of Independence his wife was probably like, ‘This is a profoundly stupid idea, Thomas. Like you shacking up with that slave girl.’”
Mister Schue just kind of stared at Finn with his mouth wide opened before doubling over in hysterical laughter. Finn grinned.
Mister Schue’s good mood? Totally restored.
Yeah he ruled.
“Alright guys,” said Mister Schue, clapping his hands to get their attention, “No assignment! Instead we’re going to be putting on a show!”
“A show?” echoed Kurt with a quirk of his brow.
“Yes! Well we need to raise money in order to hire buses and we definitely need to start thinking about future competitions. So we need to fundraise!”
“What show?” asked Rachel practically vibrating in her seat.
“Rocky Horror,” answered Mister Schue with a grin as he whipped out the permission forms, “It’s perfect considering the time of year. People love seeing it performed live.”
“Um…not to be a downer, Mister Schuester,” interrupted Rachel, “But isn’t it a little risqué for high school?”
“Well obviously it will need to be edited a little bit. And you’ll need to get your parents’ permission to perform. However, after reminding Figgins about some of Cheerios dance shows, he was very willing to listen to my viewpoint.”
“Mister Schue,” said Santana with a predatory gleam in her eye, “Did you blackmail Figgins?”
“It’s not blackmail. More like a gentle reminder about favoritism.”
“Alright then,” said Tina, “I’m in!”
Mister Schue beamed at her, “Now we’re going to have to double roles for some parts. Which is what they usually do for the stage shows. Now here’s what I was thinking in terms of cast…”
“I’m the wheelchair guy aren’t I?” asked Artie with a resigned tone of voice. Mister Schue patted him on the back sympathetically, “Would you also mind doing some stuff for the Criminologist, too?”
Artie’s face brightened a little bit more at that thought, “No problem!”
“Alright now before I begin reading off casting ideas. Are there any requests?”
“I would like to be considered for Riff-Raff please, Mister Schuester,” said Kurt primly.
“That’s very doable, Kurt.”
“Uh…,” began Mike swallowing nervously, “Could I be the Doctor guy? I’ve been getting more confident with my singing lately ever since the duet and I…”
“Calm down Mike. If you think you can do it, then its fine by me. I’ll even help coach you, okay?”
Mike gave the teacher a small smile.
“Any more requests?”
At the silence of the room, Mister Schue began to read out his ideas for casting.
Finn muttered a curse under his breath as he felt Rachel’s eyes bore a hole in the back of his head. Well it was a fair trade, he supposed. It had been ages since he had seen Mister Schue this happy and excited. He could deal with working with his ex.
“I really have to thank you for the idea,” said Mister Schue with a grin as they sat for tutoring.
“It’s no problem. It’s good to see you really happy about it,” answered Finn as he opened his Math book, “Now…geometry on the other hand is a bummer.”
“What are you guys doing in it?”
“Proofs,” sighed out Finn as he pulled out the sheet of paper.
“I’m sorry,” blurted out Mister Schue making Finn laugh.
“I don’t understand why we need to explain our process for it. Why can’t we just do it?”
“Something that many high school students have been asking themselves for years,” stated the teacher, “Alright I was able to dig up some of old notebooks. Let’s see if there’s anything in them we can use to help you.”
They bent their heads together to set to work.
After a couple of days of solid practicing, everyone in glee was starting to get pumped about the Rocky Horror show. Of course this wave of joy was due to Mister Schue who was enthusiastically leading the charge, often shucking off his teacherly clothes in favor of ratty jeans and faded t-shirts for practice.
It was nice seeing him to be so excited and happy about something, Finn decided as he took a drink of his water bottle. Mike was wobbling dangerously in high heels, as Mister Schue stood there taking Mike’s hands and walking across the room.
“It’s take a while to get used to them,” confessed the teacher, “I was Frank’s understudy so I had to know how to walk in heels as well.”
“They hurt,” moaned Mike, “Why on earth do girls wear them?”
“To feel pretty!” cheered Brittany with a smile.
“To conform to a centralized image of what true beauty is rather than follow our own ideals of it,” said Rachel a second later. Finn bit back a snort, so said the girl who came to school dressed as Britney Spears, “How are you doing with your lines, Finn? Because if you need help with them then you can come over to my house…”
“I’m doing fine, Rachel,” said Finn with a strained smile. Even though they had been broken up for about a month, he still wasn’t fully comfortable around his ex-girlfriend.
“Well if you still need any help.”
“You’ll be the first person I call,” half promised Finn. He couldn’t understand why Rachel was trying to get back together with him again. He sighed sitting back against one of the set pieces.
“So the ex giving you troubles huh?” asked Sam as he plopped down next to Finn, blonde hair falling into curious dark eyes.
Finn sighed and tipped his head back before answering.
“I’m not thinking about it until I absolutely have to. Rachel can be nice and all but she’s…”
“Twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound sack?”
“I was looking for another word, but yeah I’ll go with that. She’s just really insecure you know? She was convinced that the only way that we could work is that if we both were losers and isolated from the world. That sounded kind of not healthy so we broke up. Well more like I broke up with her.”
“That blows,” stated Sam as he took a drink of water, “How’d you do on the English paper?”
“Alright I guess. Why?”
“I got a D. Dammit,” cursed Sam under his breath as he drummed his fingers against his jeans nervously, “I used to have a peer editor person look over my essays and shit but they don’t have a program like that here and I would feel weird asking for that kind of help. And I know Coach is going to bust my ass over this.”
“Well,” began Finn as he remembered his own B-minus with an oddly proud smile on his face, “You can come to tutoring with me?”
“Huh?”
“Mister Schue tutors me. I’m sure he’ll be happy to look over your essays and shit. I usually go after football practice. Come with me.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Sam grinned at Finn before punching him the shoulder, “Dude you are the best!”
Finn grinned at his friend, enjoying the glorious moments of happiness and joy that seemed to permeate through that moment.
Frank ‘N’ Furter: Brad and Janet what do you think?
Janet: I don’t like men with too many muscles.
Audience Members: Just one big one! -New Live Cast Recording Rocky Horror Show: 25th Anniversary
Of course Finn should have known that happiness wouldn’t have lasted.
Sorry, it’s Will Schuester here. Mister Schue…whatever. Finn wasn’t entirely certain how to write out this next part so he asked me to do it for him.
Which is pretty alright with me I mean this our story for the most part. Even if Finn wanted to be the one to tell it. I can still interject my own feelings and thoughts occasionally.
So the whole Rocky Horror thing was interesting. I mean it was around this time that I started to learn that my feelings for Finn were not quite so platonic as I once imagined them to be. And it was weird alright? Admitting that I was feeling things for a seventeen year old.
I didn’t want to end up on a Dateline special.
But Finn, I told Finn things that I never told anyone else before. And fuck if that didn’t mean something to me.
But like I said. The happiness didn’t last for long.
First, Mike Chang had to drop out. Now that I understood, his parents didn’t want him to be involved in the show. And it is a pretty risqué show, mildly put, and we were taking an admittedly big risk. Despite the fact that we were using every precaution available. But anyway, we were short a Frank.
It’s not Rocky Horror without Frank.
Luckily, Mercedes stepped in. And she had the voice and the skills to bring down the house. I trusted her to do an amazing job.
So alright, we had our little panic moment thing. It should all be okay at this point right?
Haha yeeeaaah. Nope.
Sam was uncomfortable with the Rocky costume. Which is understandable. I had to wear the damn thing for shadow cast performances. We made the shorts a bit longer. But the problem is that we had to make a lot of minor itty bitty changes. And those add up. If we had Rocky in a shirt…
Well the audience was going to be purist Rocky fans. I shudder to think of their reaction.
So I let Sam drop out, any reason for me not to have Carl in the show, and I let him have Eddie’s part. Which Sam was amazingly okay with.
However, that left the role of Rocky to be filled and we were only a couple of days away from the show. Someone had to step in.
And apparently that someone had to be me.
Of course.
This is just another sign that universe hates me.
“The sword of Damocles is hanging over my head. And I’ve got the feeling someone’s going to be cutting the thread.” -Rocky Horror
William Schuester stared at the bright gold shorts.
The bright gold shorts stared back.
The teacher sucked on his bottom lip for a moment, staring at it before sighing and grabbing the article of clothing. He was totally respectful of Sam’s decision to back out of the play, but since Mike’s parents wouldn’t let him near it, then he was out of options.
He was going to have to be Rocky.
Well…he could tell Figgins that there was going to be no sex orgies while he and Sue were both on stage. So maybe the principal would stop giving him the stink-eye.
Slowly Will undressed himself, making sure to carefully fold all his clothes.
He stared at the shorts once more before sliding them on.
Oh what the hell was he doing?
If a teenager that is as unholy ripped as Sam is freaking out about this costume, maybe he should reconsider it.
The last time Will was Rocky, he was twenty-three. He is very much NOT twenty-three anymore. Sure he’s proud of the fact that he can keep up with kids as high strung and as moving as the ones in New Directions. But it’s something entirely to be onstage with all those people watching him in these tiny gold shorts. Fucking fuck! Sue Sylvester is going to be RIGHT THERE!!! And oh shit. Okay deep breaths are needed. Air is good.
Will slowly inched toward the mirror until he was standing in front of it.
Alright so he had nothing to worry about at all. The shorts fit just as good as he remembered. He tried to smile charmingly but it came out like a grimace. He shouldn’t be nervous! He had done this a million times in the past. Granted it was never in front of his students.
…or Sue Sylvester…
….or the one woman he really thought he had a shot with but basically shot him down by calling him a man-whore in front of the entire staff….
…or her Mister Perfect dentist boyfriend with his good looks and his nice smile and the way he’s helped her more than Will could ever hope to…
“Maybe this was a stupid idea,” muttered the teacher as he eyed himself critically in the mirror. His breathing quickening as each nerve wracking thought flies through his head.
“Hey Mister Schue?” called Finn as he walked into the room.
Before stopping and staring.
“Don’t get strung out. By the way I look. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” -Dr. Frank ‘N’ Furter
Daaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmn.
Alright I was screwed.
Because in that moment I, Finn Hudson, admitted that I may have a crush on my teacher. My MALE teacher and surprisingly I was pretty okay with that. I mean I was still on the very straight side of bi at that point. But I had kissed one or two guys over the years and I wasn’t totally repulsed by the fact (things said in Kurt’s basement aside).
But I was just thinking it was going to be a harmless teacher crush or a friend crush because we were totally friends at that point and time.
So that’s what I thought of it as when I saw him in the Rocky costume.
Seriously though if people knew what was underneath those sweater vests and teacher clothing then maybe students would at least pretend to pay more attention to the man.
He has a fucking six pack and he honestly honestly is pretty gorgeous.
So yeah I knew I was fucked. I barely stammered out the question I had and got the explanation on the whole situation before turning tail and running like hell.
I’m not proud of it.
I’m also not proud of what I had to do a couple days later.
Too be fair. I wasn’t feeling so hot.
“Rose tint my world. Keep me safe from my trouble and pain.” -Ensemble
Finn’s head was splitting open like a melon being dropped on a sidewalk from a high height. Every sound sounded a thousand times shriller and high-pitched then it actually was. Every light flared brightly before his eyes until it was like staring in the sun. He could feel the earth spin and spin and spin underneath his feet: making him nauseous and dizzy.
Finn knew the symptoms. He had a migraine. It started around third period science, making Finn think that he was getting sick from the chemical fumes. Rather it kept building and building over the course of the day. Now all the football player wanted to do was finish rehearsal and go home to lie somewhere dark and quiet in a ball until the pain passed.
Of course, Rachel or Coach Sylvester weren’t helping with his migraine. They were doing the “Toucha-Toucha-Toucha Touch Me” song, which had Rachel directing and Mister Schue awkwardly trying to find his place as Rocky. Coach Sylvester’s snide (and unwanted) comments mingled with the loudness of Rachel’s voice.
Finn pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.
He was in pain, a lot of pain.
They have been here for about an hour.
And they haven’t even run through the song yet.
Honestly couldn’t Rachel just ripped Mister Schue’s shirt off and sing the damn song already?
“Now this spot right here should be perfect. Now we need to figure out how to stand and…”
“We should really just sing the song, Rachel.”
“But Mister Schuest…”
“ENOUGH!” yelled Finn feeling sick and hurting and not even wanting to put up with this anymore, “It’s honestly not that hard Rachel!”
He stalked across the stage, not even aware of anyone’s eyes on him. He just wanted the shirt off for them to sing the fucking song so he can go home and die peacefully. He walked up to Mister Schue, fisted his hands in the shirt, and pulled.
All the buttons gave, flying off in different directions, exposing the teacher’s bare torso for the world to see. He could hear a couple of gasps and murmur of appreciation from Santana.
“Now just sing the freaking song!” demanded Finn as he stalked away.
“Finn?” called Mike gently, “Dude are you feeling okay?”
Finn looked at Mike, glassy eyed, before shaking his head in the negative, “Head hurts.”
“Do you have a migraine?”
Finn could only nod, shutting his eyes tight against the flaring brightness of the world.
“Alright, dude, I’m taking you home. I’ll let Mister Schuester know. Can you make it to my car?”
Finn nodded against not really trusting himself to speak.
“Okay you head there and I’ll meet up with you in a couple seconds.”
Finn walked out of the auditorium, only catching a snippet of Mike’s explanation before shutting the door and slowly beginning the trek down the hallway.
Naturally, the next day when Finn’s migraine went down to a dull ache and he could blink without feeling like his head was going to explode, Finn felt two things: embarrassed and mortified.
Embarrassed because he doesn’t have diva grade hissy fits even when he’s not feeling well. Meaning that he’s going have to do some hefty apologies.
Mortified because well…he ripped off his teacher’s shirt! Granted it was done in a haze of pain and snark, but still!!!
Meaning that he was going to have to apologize to Mister Schue and then crawl back somewhere and quietly shrivel up and die of embarrassment. So Finn summoned all his courage and knocked on the teacher’s office door.
“Come in!”
Finn opened the door.
“Hey uh Mister Schue.”
“Hey Finn,” the teacher looked up concerned, “how are you feeling? Should you be in today?”
“Nothing a bit of rest in a cold, dark, silent space couldn’t cure. Um…look I’m totally sorry yesterday for my behavior. It was totally outline of line, you know, and I just wanted to apologize and give you this.”
Finn pulled out the dark green dress shirt that was one that he had and quickly grown out of. But it should fit the other man.
“Um to replace the one I ripped…sorry about that.”
“Finn you don’t have to apologize. You were sick. Of course I understand.”
“That’s being pretty damn understanding there, Mister Schue.”
Mister Schue gave him a smile, “I’m an understanding person, Finn. But apology accepted. Even though you didn’t have to apologize.”
And he took the shirt.
Which left Finn feeling very warm and pleased for some odd reason and made the remaining demonic pain from the migraine seem less intense.
Actually he spent the whole day whistling and smiling because Mister Schue wasn’t mad at him.
Which made Finn pause and sigh.
Yep. He was definitely in majorly crushing territory here.
Fuck his life.
Naturally, as his life tended to go, things got worse before they got better.
“Give yourself over to absolute pleasure. Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh - erotic nightmares beyond any measure, and sensual daydreams to treasure forever. Can't you just see it? Don't dream it, be it!” -Frank N Furter
Alright, I admit it. Walking down the hallway in my tightie whities was not my best moment or my most brilliant moment.
Top Five really of the dumb things that I’ve done over my lifetime at around number five.
The first four start with Puck breaking into my room at three a.m. with a crazy grin on his face going, “DUDE! I have the best idea.”
For the record, while fun, Puck’s ideas are never the best.
The aftermath of it was pretty awesome though. How Mister Schue happened to be walking down the hall at the same time, saw me, before ushering me into another room.
“What are you doing, Finn?!”
“Wearing my costume so I don’t freak out over the fact that I’m going to be in front of an auditorium full of people wearing just my underwear.”
“Oh. Well while a good idea to get over stage fright. You really shouldn’t do that! Sue…I mean Coach Sylvester is looking for any reason to shut the show down.”
Whoops.
See I felt like an idiot I endangered the show and disappointed Mister Schue.
Good going Hudson.
“Sorry.”
And Mister Schue sighed and kind of blushed, “It’s alright Finn. Uh…where are you clothes? I’ll go get them.”
“Thanks.”
And that was pretty much the last major incident.
As for the show, in case you were wondering. It went pretty great. We at least raised enough money to pay for transportation. Mister Schue even got a standing ovation for his song.
It was actually pretty fun.
And he was smiling even though Miss Pillsbury and Doctor A-Howell were in the audience.
So mission accomplished.