Hey buddy, I just came by to feed my Venus fly trap.

That is a libelous accusation and I insist you retract it immediately. You have no proof.

But other than that, you have no proof. It’s time to face facts William, at 1pm this afternoon your little club will have had their shot at the big time and they will have failed. Glee Club will be canceled. And all of that money Figgins has been funneling into your budget will finally and rightfully be restored to mine.

Bring it on William. I am reasonable confident you will be adding “revenge” to the long list of things you are no good at. Right next to “being married”, “running a high school Glee Club,” and “finding a hairstyle that doesn’t make you look like a lesbian.” Love you like a sista.

You’re not gonna push a woman, are you? I didn’t think so.

You have no proof.

Forgeries.

Well you’ve clearly made up you mind not to be impartial in this case, so let’s see if you can’t wrap up this little lecture, slap me on the wrist and let me get back to whipping my squad of champions into shape. We have to be in Albequerque in a couple of weeks for Nationals.

I beg your pardon?

I BEG YOUR PARDON!?

A FAILED PRESIDENT!

OK, if this is the way you want to play it, OK.

Schuester.

Well played, sir. I underestimated you. Alright. Here’s what happens now. I’m gonna head on down to my condo in Boca, brown up a bit, get myself back into fighting shape, then I’m gonna return to this school even more hellbent on your destruction. Get ready for the ride if your life, Will Schuester. You are about to board the Sue Sylvester Express. Destination? HORROR!

You know, you just woke a sleeping giant. Prepare to be crushed.

Edie, William, you. Every year when photos for the Thunderclap come around I always elect to have a little work done. This year, I got myself a bit of an eyelift. And while they were in there I told ‘em to go ahead and yank out those tear ducts. Wasn’t using ‘em. You know I’ve got a storage full of trophies and medallions? But for the rest of you educators, these yearbook pictures are the really the only concrete proof you have that anything you’ve done in your sorry little lives has made any difference whatsoever. My Cheerios are so excited. Got ‘em on a yam diet. Draws the water out of the skin.

Well, Glee kids don’t get a photo.

Well, I just had a meeting with Principal Figgins, Eleanor, and what with all of the vandalism of the Glee Club photos over the years, I convinced him that putting the Glee kids in this year’s Thunderclap was subjecting the little freaks to more humiliation and ridicule.

That’s not happening.

Hey good luck with that. You know, you three are boring me now. I’m gonna go do something else.

Am I asking for too much, Ohio Board of Statewide Holiday Planning? All I want is just one day a year when I’m not visually assaulted by uglies and fatties. Seriously, Ohio, these retinas need a day off! So here’s the dream: Friday after Christmas, which I have off, if you’re hideous, stay at home! Spend the entire day watching home videos of a time when you weren’t too repulsive for me to want to look at. And that’s how Sue “C”s it. Rod.

Hey Andrea, that Sue’s Corner I just did? I was talking about you.

Oh I got nothing to say to you Preggo.

Oh is that what you want? Well what I wanted was a head cheerleader who wasn’t going to hoist her legs behind her ears in the back seat of the first station wagon she could jimmy open, throwing away any chance she ever had in life.

Well that little educational proverb must have slithered from Will Schuester’s mouth right after his lesson on how to disqualify yourselves from Sectionals. Saw your little commercial last night. Boy, did you Glee kids step in it.

Well of course you didn’t William. You wouldn’t know if your Glee Club was using your office to breed rabbits for pets or for food. And you know why? You’re too busy chasing tail, and loading your hair with enormous amounts of product. I mean, today it just looks like you put lard in it.

That’s what I…

And what if I were to just innocently murder you, Will? I’d still have to go to trial. Probably get off with justifiable homicide. Let me review the rules for you, William.

Amendment 63, seventh addendum. “No professional activity of any kind will be tolerated and payment for services rendered negates amateur status triggering immediate disqualification.”

Hey what? Hey what mister?

There’s a stack of mattresses in the choir room piled as high as the empty hair gel bottles in the Dumpster outside your apartment.

Is there any reason that you have a soiled mattress in your office, Will? Have you and the redhead become so sexually depraved that you have to commit your craven acts of adultery in between classes?

Well I didn’t see that one coming at all.

It’s OVER!

Dear Journal. I’ve finally gotten Will Schuester and that Glee Club out of my hair. This is a day that will live in infamy! Once again, I’ve won.

It’s like looking at a porno star in a nun’s habit.

Take it off. You need to get it though your pregnant head there’s no way you’re getting into that photo or back on the Cheerios. End of story.

Excuse me?

Fine. You’re back on the Cheerios. I’ll put you on full-time dry cleaning duty and shove you to the back of the photo to hide your shame.

You know, Q, I’ve forgotten just how ruthless you really are. You’re like a young Sue Sylvester. Now get out of my office, if you can manage to squeeze through the door without your water breaking all over my new carpet.

Hey, fella. So unless my recent write up here in Splits! Magazine, naming me cheerleading coach of the decade, has me driven completely insane, I’m pretty sure that you and I had an agreement that you were going to show me your Glee Club set list for sectionals.

Not interested? I’m the Fine Arts Administrator or something.

That’d be fantastic. I’d hate to have to go to Figgins about this.

Hey, Will.

I’d like my magazine back, please.

Thank you.

Hey there pal, can you remind me once again of the names of the schools you’ll be competing against at Sectionals?

Got it. What are their zip codes?

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I resent that accusation William, and one I understand you’ve been making to our friends at Haverbrook and Jane Adams, and it’s an outrageous affront to my sterling reputation. That being said, fine, I have been checking up on you, because I don’t like what’s going on in there. Do you know why I make each of my Cheerios wear her pulled hair back in a ponytail? Because I don’t want to distract from her impeccable talent. You seem to be taking the opposite approach Will, and that leads me to believe you know your kids don’t have what it takes.

Well maybe in the beginning, but not now. Now that you’ve seen the competition that threatens your very position at this school. You’re going to get me an updated set list by five o’clock tomorrow. And if there’s anything on that list that involved demeaning, fruity haircuts, I’m cutting it!

Well, then I’m back as co-director.

Sure.

Wow, these are great choices, William. Proud Mary? Smokin’ hot deep cut.

Don’t mock me.

I don’t recognize this last one.

This is their set list from sectionals. “Don’t Stop Believin’” that’s in. “Proud Mary” performed in wheelchairs, that’s in. Now, I suggest you take these two songs, split them between your two groups, and I’ll pull some strings and make sure that Schuester and his group perform last. That way, it’ll look like he stole the songs from you.

That’s actually a very good question because I’ve forgotten both of your names.

Yeah, pretty much. Oh, I think you’re missing an opportunity to give your girls a second chance. These McKinley kids are going to do fine, but outside of Glee Club, your girls don’t have a heck of lot going for them. And I’d hate to see them so devastated by losing that they give up entirely. You know how many deaf choirs have won this competition?

I assume you read lips. Read these. Never let anything distract you from winning. Never.

I hear people say, “That’s not how I define marriage.” Well to them I say, “Love knows no bounds.” Why can’t people marry dogs? I’m certainly not advocating intimacy with your pets. I, for one, think intimacy has no place in a marriage. Walked in on my parents once and it was like seeing two walruses wrestling. So woof! on Prop 15, Ohio. And that’s how Sue “C”s it. Rod.

Still smell like scotch, Rod.

Don’t you have a wife, Rod?

Sure. OK. Bread, cheese, fantastic.

Well, live and let learn my friend.

You know you’re right. I… oh gosh I don’t know how else to say it , but… I’m in love. After one date, Sue Sylvester is in love.

You sunk my battleship, Rod, and you sunk it hard. Pow!

I could be good with that.

Rod has invited me to the second annual Allen County Sickle-Cell Anemia Dance-a-Thon. And with your tutelage, Will, we can take home that blue ribbon like two prize heifers in love.

Oh, well, Irma just raved about you.

Mmm, yeah well she’s just a confused kid and the least I can offer her is my compassion. But you, Mister. The Sue Sylvester who has been obsessed with sabotaging your every move is now just a distant memory.

Now all I feel for you is sympathy. Whether it be for your sham of a marriage, or the fact that Coach Tanaka is finally laying down the law with regard to Glee Club.

Yeah, Tanaka-san’s making the kids choose. I mean, c’mon, let’s be honest, what kid’s going to choose Glee Club over football? It’d be ridiculous.

Rod? Andrea.

I came by special to show you my Zoot Suit. I had it made for our dance competition.

Further embarrassed.

It’s the only way I do it, Rod.

No.

Schuester! I’ll need to see that set lists for sectionals after all. I want it on my desk warm from the laminator at 5pm. And if it is one minute late, I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat, and then on some dark, cold night I will steal away into your home and punch you in the face.

What?

No it did not.

Q, take off those sunglasses. I want to look in your eyes when I give you this piece of business. You’re off the Cheerios. I can’t have a pregnant girl on my squad. You’re a disgrace.

Look at me. Even in the heat of battle, I am so elegant! Regal! I am Ajax, mighty Greek warrior. God, it feels great to pop that zit known as Will Schuester.

In my opinion…

No, go ahead…

OK!

Principal Figgins, uh, things couldn’t be going more smoothly.

Never.

I want to pit these kids against one another. Am I clear? Quinn, Update. Go.

Ahh, chink at the armor, huh? I am going to create an environment that is so toxic, no one will want to be a part of that club. Like the time I sold my house to a nice young couple, and I salted the earth in the back yard so that nothing living would grow there for a hundred years. You know why I did that? Because they tried to get me to pay their closing costs.

And we’ll be flipping a coin to see who goes first, so it’ll be very civilized. Very sportsmanlike, so.

Isn’t it?

I really don’t see that happening.

I am about to vomit down your back.

Ladies’ choice. Heads!

Tricksters Trick Store, this is Sue Sylvester. You got any of those double-headed coins?

Awesome. Alright. The following students have been selected for a special elite Glee Club called Sue’s Kids.

Aw come on, Will, Give me a chance to do things Sue Sylvester’s way. Maybe with my proven leadership abilities I can help this pathetic group of mouth-breathers place at sectionals.

Really? You need to crack open a book, William. Here, I have. Show Choir Rule Book. Page 24, provision 14, second addendum. “Twelve members must perform for each team, however not all members must perform every song.”

Alright everybody listen up! When you hear your name called, cross over to my side of this black shiny thing.

Santana! Wheels! Gay Kid! Come on, move it! Asian! Other Asian! Aretha and Shaft.

See, Will I don’t want to participate in a group that ignores the needs of minority students.

Oh I wouldn’t kid about this Will, and maybe that’s your problem. Bigotry is no laughing matter.

Outstanding!

Sometimes people ask me, “Sue, how come you’re so sensitive to minorities?” I’ll tell you why: because I know firsthand how hard it is to struggle as a minority in America today. I’m 1/16th Comanche Indian. In fact, I like minorities so much, I’m thinking of moving to California to become one!

Hey kids, brought some of my brass buddies with me. Thought maybe they could help us out a little bit. OK! So I selected a song that I think will speak to the frustration you felt under the failed leadership of Will Schuester.

You like that? Yeah!

Changster, i want to see some of that pop and lock groove you’re so famous for. You go to town.

And you, Mercedes, I want to see some Mariah hands.

Alright, well we’ll see. Hit it!

Oh hey buddy, I thought I smelled failure.

A properly steam-cleaned piano is the key to any successful music group.

Your delusions of persecution are a tell-tale sign of early stage paranoid schizophrenia.

Well, Will, the last thing your kids need is chronic sinusitis from the mildew I feared was infesting that old moldy paper.

Nope, burned it.

Cock fight. Fantastic.

OK, you want to get real? You’re right, Will, I have been trying to destroy your club with a conviction I can only call religious. And you want to know why? Because I don’t trust a man with curly hair. I can’t help picturing small birds laying sulfurous eggs in there and I find it disgusting.

I don’t care what you think. I have a legacy to protect, William, and Glee Club is a part of that legacy, and I will win. And if it means I have to get you fired to do it, so be it.

Those drinks are crap!

I’m cutting you off. Is this a cover story?

OK, this is all your readers need to know: I’m all about empowerment. I empower my Cheerios to live in a state of constant fear by creating an environment of irrational random terror. Speaking of which: Q! Here! Now! Where are my Cheerios?

This is a travesty of international proportions. You are jeopardizing my Cheerios’ role as goodwill ambassadors. And I have a call in to the President.

You can’t stand it! You can’t stand to see a woman in a position of power! Your psycho-sexual derangement would be fascinating, Will, if it weren’t so TERRIFYING.

Oh, so what?

Oh Will, we all know about your devotion to that dying language.

Let me break this down for you, OK? I empower my Cheerios to be champions. Do they go on to college? I don’t know. I don’t care. Should they learn Spanish? Sure, if they want to become dishwashers and gardeners. But if they want to be bankers and lawyers and captains of industry, the most important lesson they could possibly learn is how to do a round-off.

SAY SOMETHING!

What?

Don’t. Touch me.

THAT IS A LAWSUIT MISTER, I WILL SUE YOUR ASS!

What happened to our little agreement, huh? Will I be uploading a certain video to YouTube this afternoon?

Say it for me again, word for word.

Perfect. Then turn to the other two and say…

Can you imagine in this day and age being discriminated against? My goodness, the pain you must be feeling. So your last name’s Puckerman, huh?

Who knew? And poor, sweet, Brittany. Oh, I know the Dutch are famous for being a cold people, but that’s no excuse for treating you like some half-priced hooker in Amsterdam’s famous red light district. Well, all I can say is if you’re serious about leaving Schuester, Sue Sylvester’s rainbow tent will gladly protect you from his storm of racism.

Well, now you know how it felt for me to have my Cheerios snatched away.

Not with that attitude. Look, I’m prepared to cut you a deal. You pass my Cheerios, and I’ll give you back your team of losers and snot faucets.

Can’t wait, pal.

Alright, that’s it. Come on. She had her chance. Everybody up, we’re leaving.

No and that’s the point, there is no fire. You know, it’s sad enough that my Sue’s kids are living in squalor and probably on food stamps. But for you to drag them in here and bore ‘em to death, I won’t stand for it.

Come on kids, out, we’re going for Coneys, my treat.

Really.

I’ll have you know I have my PhD.

You are a failed performer Will. You weren’t good enough to make it in the real world. You’re not even good enough to run this stupid little club that nobody cares about. Time after time, Will, you fail.

How dare you talk to me like that! Don’t you point your….

William. Close the door.

Good I wanted to come to you too but i have no idea where your office is. Why don’t you have a seat.

So I’ve decided to step down as co-head of Glee.

Yeah, it’s not for me. It’s too fruity. Can’t stand the sight of kids getting emotional unless it’s from physical exhaustion.

I’d still like to stay on as consiglieri, you know, maybe you could show me you set lists before competitions. Just so I can feel like I’m contributing. You know I was a veejay for a couple of years. Not MTV, but still.

Because you don’t trust me. I know my methods are extreme, and I know I’m not like the rest of you hippies, caring about the kids feelings as if they’re real. But I do care about teaching, and when I coach them and they win, I win. And you know how I feel about winning.

No one would say that.

…is pregnant. Sorry Q, it’ll be all over the blogosphere by this afternoon. Now everybody knows, including me.

This was a particularly interesting find from today’s round of locker checks. Are these your droopy white granny panties, Jacob? Are you an Eve who was born a Steve? Because if you are, I think there’s a special school that would better address your needs. And I think that school is in Thailand.

What Quinn story?

Not a chance. If my head cheerleader was pregnant, jeopardizing the very future of my Cheerios and thus my teaching tenure, I think she would have come to me. Quinn Fabray respects me and would never lie to me. Never.

No. Run it.

Oh dear God. Please, please, stop talking. I’m trying desperately to ignore the treacly sweet inanity of your asinine conversation but now I’ve got bile in my mouth, and I will hold my tongue no further. You know what this is? It’s a list of my Cheerios. Every week, I pick someone at random and I kick ‘em out.

Oh yeah Will? How’s that working out for you? You have to remember something. We’re dealing with children. They need to be terrified. It’s like mother’s milk to them. Without it, their bones won’t grow properly. So if you want results with a kid, you find that competitive animal within, and unleash it. OK! Ellen, that blouse is just insane.

Dear Journal: Feeling listless again today. It began at dawn when I tried to make a smoothie out of beef bones, breaking my juicer. And then at Cheerios practice, DISASTER! It was unmistakable. It was like spotting the first spark on the Hindenberg. A quiver! That quiver will lose us nationals. And without a championship, I’ll lose my endorsements. And without those endorsements, I won’t be able to buy my hovercraft.

Feeling alright Quinn?

GLEE CLUB. Every time I try to destroy that clutch of scab-eating mouth breathers it only comes back stronger like some sexually ambiguous horror movie villain. Here I am, about to turn thirty, and I’ve sacrificed everything only to be shanghaied by the bicurious machinations of a cabal of doughy misshapen teens. Am I missing something, Journal? Is it me? Of course it’s not me! It’s WILL SCHUESTER. What is it about him, Journal? Is it the arrogant smirk? Is it the store-bought home perm?

You know, Journal, I noticed something yesterday. Of course. It’s becoming clear to me now. If I can’t destroy the club, I will have to destroy THE MAN.

Let me be frank. Your husband is hiding his kielbasa in a Hickory Farms gift basket that doesn’t belong to you.

Guidance counselor. Real floozy and a man eater. Wears creepy brooches like the kind my nana was buried in. More tea.

Ah it’s the same old song, wife puts on a couple extra pounds.

Oh, that’s no excuse. I’ve always found the desire to procreate showed deep personal weakness. Me? Never wanted kids. Don’t have the time, don’t have the uterus.

A woman always knows. Let me put it to you this way. If it’s not a full-blown affair, well it’s certainly headed in that direction. You need a machete to cut through the haze of lust that surrounds them.

I think you should both pack up and move out of the district. Unless you want to lose your man to a mentally ill ginger pygmy with eyes like a bush baby.

Get into that school and sniff out those sex pheromones for yourself. We happen to have an opening. Our school Nurse Mrs. Lancaster’s in a coma. Oh, she took a terrible tumble down the stairwell yesterday.

I’m not an American citizen. I was born in the Panama Canal zone. But I managed to get a passport. And run for office twice. My advice to you, if you want to keep your husband: get creative.

Hey kids. I gotta tell you, I’m just thrilled to be coming on board to co-captain your little show biz cruise. Ah, I can’t wait to start singing and dancing, and maybe even puttin’ on the Ritz a little bit.

Thanks, Ron, Andrea. You know, caning has fallen out of fashion in the United States. But ask anyone who’s safely walked the immaculate sidewalks of Singapore after winning an international cheerleading competition, and they’ll tell you one thing: caning works. And I think it’s about time we did a little more of it right here. And to all those naysayers out there who say, “That’s illegal. You can’t strike children on their bare buttocks with razor sharp bamboo sticks!”, I say, “Yes We Cane.” And that’s how Sue “C”s it.

Well because being a local celebrity who’s been written up twice on the sports page of USA Today has its perks, William. Hey pal, you wanna pull that chair out for me? My hand’s still sore from signing autographs down at the Donut Hole this morning. Brought you some holes I couldn’t finish. Oh and uh, FYI, the overnights were through the roof.

You don’t know what that means do you, overnights. Well that’s lingo for overnight ratings, which shows us leading among 18-49-year-olds making WOHN Western Ohio’s number one local newscast.

“Wow” is the word, Alma.

You know I wasn’t always in the spotlight, but I didn’t want to end up stuck at a lousy high school wrestling with mental illness, or forty and single, coaching the worst football team in the history of our state, or having to go to the salon every week to have my hair permed. I didn’t want to have to do that to myself. So I sent out my resume and I am so happy to tell you that I am busting out of my box! I’d love to stay and chat but I have a satellite interview. That’s lingo again, for an interview, via satellite.

Well Mr. McClung, your station didn’t hire me because I was yellow. And not everyone’s going to have the walnuts to take a pro-littering stance. But I will not rest until every inch of our fair state is covered in garbage. That’s why I pay taxes. It keeps garbage men earning a living, so they can afford tacos, for their family.

Isn’t this just lovely and normal?

Right.

Oh I just thought I’d stop by and say hello, buddy. Boy, the only thing missing from this place is a couple dozen bodies limed and rotting in shallow graves under the floorboards.

Sandy, let’s cut the crap.

Sandy, Sandy. We have similar problems. You need to be back in the spotlight. I want to offer you the school’s arts administrator position. You will have control of all the school’s arts programs: music, art, drama… wait for it….. Glee Club.

Oh don’t you worry about Figgins.

Take a look at this.

Well, I would hate to think of this video circulating around the school. Or better yet, YouTube.

Our first order of business is Glee Club.

And there’s one linchpin holding that group together.

Hold on to your Easter bonnet, Sandy. I’m going to fire four words at you: Liza. Minelli. Celine. Dion.

Oh, if I was out to get you I’d have you pickling in a mason jar on my shelf by now.

We’re giving everyone a chance to think they’re a star. We’re providing opportunities, opening doors. Find your voice, stomp that yard, all that crap.

You know there’s a question I get asked a lot. Whether I’m accepting an honorary doctorate or performing a citizen’s arrest, people ask me, “Sue, what’s your secret?” Well I’ll tell you my secret, western Ohio.

Sue Sylvester’s not afraid to shake things up.

You know I’m tired of hearing people complain, “I’m riddled with this disease,” or “I was in that tsunami.” To them I say: try shaking it up a bit. Get out of your box, even if that box is where you’re living.

I’ll often yell at homeless people, “Hey, how’s that homelessness working out for you? Give not being homeless a try, huh?”

You know something Ohio? It’s not easy to break out of your comfort zone. People will tear you down, tell you you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place. But let me tell you something: there’s not much of a difference between a stadium full of cheering fans, and an angry crowd screaming abuse at you. They’re both just making a lot of noise. How you take it is up to you. Convince yourself they’re cheering for you. You do that, and somme day , they will. And that’s how Sue “C”s it. Heh, heh.