In their drunken stupor, Rachel and Santana share a nice moment in which Rachel encourages Santana to move to New York. Santana scoffs at the idea, which is comical because we know she’s going to start squatting in the loft in T-minus a month. The two stumble out of Rachel’s room and find Kurt and Santa hooking up. The four toast to being naughty and we go to a commercial, during which I’m sort of floored by the notion that at any given moment we might cut back to a raunchy foursome immediately following a 15-second spot for Ferrero Rocher.
But no, we cut back in and Santana/Rachel are groggily awake the next morning when they discover they have been screwed (not that way) by rough-trade Santa, who has BOUND AND GAGGED Kurt on his bed and robbed the loft. Let’s talk for a second about the visual of Kurt BOUND AND GAGGED on a bed. Okay, done.
Well, it serves them all right. I knew Sexy Claus was trouble the moment he strutted in with his perfect torso and Joe Manganiello lats. Kurt, Rachel and Santana begin the process of mourning the loss of their possessions (including Kurt’s collection of Playbills) and, perhaps, their self-worth. As Kurt laments that their acting resumes will suffer as a result of losing their jobs as mall elves, Rachel reveals another crazy scheme (apparently she’s become the Kramer of Glee when I wasn’t looking).
The idea, of course, is that they’ll be in living displays in a department store window, and so we end the episode with the New York folk joining in with the New Directions on “Away in a Manger.” I will say that despite my disbelief that the episode has now ended and nothing appeared to have happened, the three of them look downright gorgeous in the window. So, A for effort, but C for… I don’t know, climate change.
That’s the episode! Were you as disappointed by the seeming pointlessness of tonight’s installment? Yes, we knew it was supposed to be a non-diegetic entry, but I would much rather have been watching Carrie Underwood braid herself in The Sound of Music than listen to Becky get more inappropriate dialogue. That’s also the end of Glee for the fall. It’s been fun, kids. I’ll see you back in February if you’re not sick of me yet. Happy Kwanzaa!