In the cutest Brooklyn loft since Hannah Horvath, Santana is visiting after breaking up with Brittany. She gives Kurt a mannequin head and — not even kidding — an all-expenses paid trip to a place in Canada called Dildo Island. (FYI, it exists, and now my Google search history has been compromised.) Santana has also, hilariously, gotten Rachel a gallon jug of ProActiv and some JetBlue vouchers. Kurt offers for Santa to be a full-time houseguest (proving that he has never actually lived in New York, because anyone who has knows that that’s just a horrifying nightmare waiting to happen). Rachel, pre-Broadway debut, informs the group that she’s made the executive decision and they’re going to be Christmas elves at the mall. “I’m gonna be the best Jewish elf ever,” says Rachel, who has obviously not met Seth Green.
At the mall, Santa is weirdly sexual and kind of drunk, because that’s apparently what we’ve come to expect from any mall Santa on TV despite it never being the case in real life. “I don’t like you and your Equity card attitude,” he screeches at Kurt ‘Keebler’ Hummel before leaving in a hurry. Scrambling to appease the crowd, Kurt, Santana and Rachel decide to work some NYADA magic and perform “Here Comes Santa Claus,” which is precisely the opposite message as they should be delivering. Our New York trio gives it their best (I give it a B for jaunty bells) but the bored children in the crowd reflect my equally bored face. The kids revolt, and they are accurate in their distaste.
The next scene we see, Santana is in a BUBBLE BATH and Kurt and Rachel appear to be scrambling again. I’m not even going to bother trying to explain this development, because Santana shows up in Mrs. Claus gear and takes over the throne for the selfish children. Of course, she is utterly hilarious as she turns away all sorts of children for being too fat, too Jewish, too black, or too [insert your racial or religious-based offense here]. She offends basically everyone, which is perhaps reason #2 that this episode didn’t make it to air last year?
Backstage, Kurt, Rachel and Santana continue freaking out about their miserable jobs when in strolls Cody Tolentino, a chiseled specimen who calls himself “Sexy Claus” as he stomps in to save the day. “Even I’ll admit that my girl-loving vagina is felling a little jingle bell from you,” confesses Santana. Sexy Claus says that if they truly want to save Christmas, they need to put their hearts into it for the rest of the week. And the way to do that, of course, is by inviting Sexy Claus to a dinner party.
In the loft, the trio are cooking when S.C. rolls in. He says “ho ho ho” and I’m not sure if he’s just being Santa or saying hello to everyone. Again, Sexy Santa has had maybe five lines and he’s already being welcomed into the apartment without so much as a background check. (Young’uns, further proof that abs are dangerous.) Santa busts out his bag tricks and produces a bunch of helium balloons. The four of them do their best Alvin and the Chipmunks and sing “Christmas Don't Be Late” and… well, I try my hardest not to hate every second of it, but I just can’t. It’s horrible. I’ve never given a song lower than a C, but unfortunately, I have to bust out a D- because I feel like I'm a worse person for having watched it.
NEXT: Beware the abs of Kris Kringle