Rachel Berry, animal lover, has taken her friends to a dog shelter, where she's trying to convince the owner to let her host a "very public" dog adoption event with all of her new (and wavering) Broadway clout. He gives her a "sure," and when all of the dogs start barking, he forlornly says that the speaker system they used to use to call the dogs down has broken. Luckily, Sam just read John Mayer's biography, "and he says you always have to have your guitar 80% of the time." Whatever you say, Sam, just start strumming those fingers to the tune of "I Melt With You." It's upbeat and happy, and that's probably the type of thing dogs would enjoy. Although I doubt all the platform dancing and swinging from cage to cage did much to calm them down. Better let them out for a puppy party (the first of many)! B
her cause the rescue dogs secured, Rachel is in full swing planning her event, Broadway Bitches. But Publicist Barbie Santana is about eight steps ahead of her, and has already given some anonymous tips to paparazzi to get them in the perfect place for Rachel to float by, walking a few rescue dogs in a borrowed dress so fancy the designer doesn't even have any vowels in it. Once they've gotten a few pictures (Broadway stars, they're just like us!), Rachel can drop a quote on them about Broadway Bitches and her she'll be well on her way to improving her image.
For some reason, the girls tell Kurt they don't want him to perform with them at Broadway Bitches, so he heads to Maggie's retirement home for a little sage guidance via old person. He gets there just in time to witness a Peter Pan rehearsal, with Maggie as Wendy and Billy Dee Williams and Tim Conway playing John and Michael Darling. HOW DO I GET TICKETS TO THIS PLAY? "Rule number one: hearing aids on during rehearsal." Unspoken rule number two? Don't die. Peter misses her cue, only to swing out in her harness in what ends up being her Final Bow, For Real. Kurt declares that their hard work shouldn't be in vain and offers himself up as a Peter replacement. They tell him it's a vocally demanding role, even for a woman, and my heart actually swells a little with pride knowing that Kurt has finally found a place where he can be useful and valued.
Tim Conway ain't no chump, though; Kurt has to audition just like anyone else. But would anyone else carry sheet music for "Memory" from Cats? Well, probably Rachel, but Rachel isn't there -- it's Kurt's chance to shine, and he kicks that countertenor into high gear. However, the performance really takes off when 84-year-old June Squibb gets up there to join him. It's like standing next to your grandmother in church, if your grandmother was a former Broadway performer and had 10 of her closest friends backing her up as a chorus of halfway costumed pirates. In other words, wonderful. A-
Back in Mercedes' Brownstone Large Enough to Get Lonely In, Sam has made good on his declaration to adopt a dog, even though Mercedes has already claimed there's no way he could handle it. But there he is, handling McConaughey while playing video games with Artie...if "handling" means letting him chew everything up and, I can only imagine, defecate EVERYWHERE. It seems Chris Colfer is more for writing faux-huahua chewing jokes than poop jokes though, because that's exactly what precious, poorly behaved McConaughey is doing when Mercedes comes home to find her Giant Home of Miscreant Males destroyed. And Sam hasn't even paid the gas bill or taken out the recycling! Things have gotten very domestic over the last three months for these two. While Sam/Mercedes still feels a little rushed and weird, the way they've settled into their coupledom this episode is probably the first time that I've thought of any of these characters as the semi-adults that they've become.
Mercedes tries to draw on some adult diplomacy to tell Sam that she doesn't mean to be patronizing. But with his model schedule (bustling, apparently) and her going on tour soon, he surely doesn't think he can take care of this dog. She's pretty sweet about it all -- until McConaughey walks downstairs with her weave in his mouth. And then it's "he doesn't have to go home, but he's got to get the hell outta here" time.
NEXT: The Doggy Gaunlet of Doom vs. Doggy Walk of Death...