Glee s04e20 Episode Script

Lights Out

So here's what you missed on Glee.
Ryder's getting catfished and he has no idea who's doing it, except he sort of knows who's doing it 'cause when he called them, someone's phone rang in the choir room, which means it's somebody in Glee Club.
Sue left McKinley to protect Becky, which is crazy, and Santana's living in New York with Kurt and Rachel, but she doesn't have a bedroom and she doesn't go to NYADA, so what exactly is she doing, anyway? And that's what you missed on Glee.
Hey, Kitty, who are you texting? Let me see your phone.
I'm playing 4 Pics 1 Word, weirdo stalker.
Do I need to get a restraining order? Guys, we got a problem.
Her name is Frida Romero.
With regionals only a few weeks away, I went to scout out the competition.
The bombs bursting in air The Hoosierdaddies have a secret weapon.
She's a tiny little sophomore, never competed before, but her voice could fill an arena.
I mean, it's big.
And the only way to beat them is to be huge.
I'm talking stadium huge.
Epic songs that will blow the heads off of 100,000 people at a time.
Zombie apocalypse.
Or Beyonce's halftime show.
Children, this power outage is not an emergency.
Nor is it an excuse to go wilding through the hallways.
While we're investigating the root of this near calamity, classes will continue and your brains are to remain in the on positions.
If the darkness persists, candles and flashlights will be distributed based on grade point average.
I now have to turn off the P.
A.
system so I can save our precious generator resources for the coffee machine and my plug-in lower back vibrator.
Okay, that puts a damper on our stadium songs.
Time for a new appropriate lesson.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's unplugged week.
I can't believe she blew me off like that.
Who? Katie? How do you even know this person is a she? Or even a human? Look, stop, all right? All I know is I've had this really amazing connection.
You've got to let this go, man.
It's crazy.
You don't even know her.
Look, you don't understand, Jake.
I've never felt so close to someone.
Look, I told her things about myself, about my past, I've never told anyone.
Ever.
If this were to get out Wait.
I thought your biggest secret was dyslexia.
Well, what is it? I can't.
Fine, dude, keep it all locked away for a few more years, but it's not going away.
Maybe you should think about starting to share your deep, dark secrets with people you actually know.
Right? I found this out by the Dumpster.
With a little TLC and three clicks from Kurt's ruby slippers, this bad boy would be salvageable.
Um, can you please take a seat, because Kurt and I would like to have a conversation with you.
All right, you know what, Rachel, if you are still obsessing over what you're gonna sing at your Funny Girl callback, may I suggest your best jam ever, "Run, Joey, Run.
" We think you're throwing your life away.
It's bad enough you let those horny tourists grope you for tips at that awful Coyote Ugly bar, but Tina just informed me that you are now a bouncer at a lesbian beer garden? And you're a go-go girl.
A go-go girl! Oh, yeah, a girl-bar go-go girl.
I am a cage dancer big difference.
I'm dressed as Barbarella, and I'm sorry, but some of us actually need to work for a living.
Okay, that's not the point.
Okay, you're so talented, Santana.
You're, like, the most talented person I know, obviously with the exception of me and Kurt.
But your voice, it's electric, and I would kill for half of your dancing abilities.
So I'm telling you what you told me, which is that you just need to stop and focus on your talent.
Well, maybe I don't want to be in Funny Girl, okay? Or be a singing waiter at the Fire Island Pancake Shack.
So why don't you just stop trying to force all of your creaky old-time Broadway dreams on to my amazingly awesome dream.
And what's that? I am trying to figure that out.
What is so wrong with taking a little time to figure things out? Nothing.
But what about doing something in the meantime? Like dance lessons? NYADA has a great extension program for non-students.
Yeah.
Something to keep your motors revved, you know My "motor" is revved every night that I cage dance.
And while I appreciate your pity, I don't really think I need to be taking any advice from TV's Blossom and Lady Elaine Fairchilde.
Would you take your chair with you? All right, I know these conditions aren't ideal, but I want to thank you guys for toughing it out.
And we have our first volunteer, who is going to show us how to get back to basics and really strip it down.
So, let's give it up for Sam.
Right.
Uh, take it away.
Thanks.
Um, well, when Mr.
Shue started talking about being big, I started thinking about Phil Spector's legendary Wall of Sound, and how he would use, like, thousands of instruments so his songs could really fill a stadium.
And then I started thinking about stripping, um, out all that extra noise to get to the essence of the song.
Plus, my mom said that I was conceived to this song, so I kind of literally owe my existence to the Righteous Brothers.
Anyways, uh, here it goes.
You never close your eyes Anymore when I kiss your lips And there's no tenderness Like before In your fingertips You're trying hard not to show it But, baby Baby, I know it You've lost that lovin' feelin' Whoa, that lovin' feelin' You've lost that lovin' feelin' Now it's gone, gone, gone Whoa-whoa-oh We had a love A love, a love you don't find every day Oh, baby Oh, baby So don't Don't, don't Don't let it slip away Baby Baby Yeah Bring back that lovin' feelin' Whoa, that lovin' feelin' Bring back that lovin' feelin' 'Cause it's gone, gone, gone And I can't go on Whoa-whoa-whoa.
Wow, you see that, guys? That's the kind of power and passion that we need for regionals.
Good job, Sam.
Um, next up, uh, Artie.
Show us what you got.
I'm sorry, Mr.
Shue.
I can't do Miguel without my synth.
I needs my synth! No, you needs to man up.
Excuse me? You know how often the power went off at my house, how many times my dad couldn't afford to pay the stupid bill? Relax, dude.
I had to entertain my brother and sister with just my guitar and my voice, and we didn't have any synth.
I mean, like, I saw you texting during my song, and it's not just you; It's all of us.
We're so focused on being plugged in to the Twitterverse and the Blogosphere that we don't appreciate what's actually right in front of us.
And I think that that's just sad and lame.
Great, so we'll include a Blu-ray of Black Swan, um, in the gift bag and a note from the director, "How Ballet Inspired Me.
" Oh, that's perfect.
Thanks, Darren.
I appreciate it.
Oh, and, uh, listen, you're at my table, seated next to Christopher.
So be nice.
All right, bye.
Darren? Aronofsky.
Christopher Nolan.
Oh.
You may be seated.
So, first of all, how is your dad? Oh, uh, thank you for asking.
He's doing good.
Um, he's back at work, and all his treatments seem to be working.
Good, I'm happy to hear that.
I thought you might have called me in here because, um, you were gonna fire me.
What? Why would I do that? When you gave me the internship, you said it would be 24/7, and ever since I got accepted to NYADA You haven't been coming in as much.
We've noticed.
But quality trumps quantity always.
And though NYADA's gain is Vogue.
com's loss, I will never stop anyone from pursuing their passion.
But I need your help.
You know I'm co-chairing the gala for New York City Ballet's educational programs? Yeah, it's only the social event of the performing arts season.
My celebrity wrangler just canceled.
It was going to be Anna's daughter, but she got the chicken pox à la Barbara Walters.
So I need somebody.
I need somebody good who can dive in ASAP.
If anyone else does this, I-I will literally die.
Okay.
All right.
Yes.
And listen, um, if you want to draft a couple of friends to help you out, that's good, too.
Yeah? Dear journal, I speak to you now not as Sue Sylvester, world-class coach and educatrix, but as Sue Sylvester, freelance champion.
I've purged myself of the toxic teen-town trauma parade that is McKinley High, and life could not be better.
I'm making my own hours, rocking a fresh look, and getting paid twice the money to do what I do best, dishing out top-tier abuse to trophy wives and self-hating single gals as a personal trainer.
I've arrived.
I'm the same boy I used to be Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Let me hear those childless pelvic pops.
Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me Fishy hands.
Call on me.
Fishy hands.
Call on me Call on me Call on me Call on me.
Take it, take it.
Leg up, leg up.
Call on me.
And down.
All right.
That's it.
Uh, no crying in my classroom.
Go on.
Go home to mommy.
Fact, if I hadn't mistaken you for a butch Israeli girl, I would've never let you in here.
B, the fact that you survived my boot camp 101, also known as Sue 90X, trademark pending, I will allow you to speak.
Just don't sing.
I'll admit, I rejoined the Cheerios with the sole plan of destroying you from the inside.
Admirable.
But now that you're gone, I can see that all the Cheerio girls are lost without you, and frankly, as student council president, I'm a little worried about the kind of advice Coach Roz is giving.
And that is why you all signed up with Dr.
Fong to get a couple of those fatty ribs removed for flexibility.
What? You know, I always thought Becky could look like a young Dolly Parton with a couple less ribs.
Something went down at that school, and it has something to do with you.
Someway, somehow, the kids are still shaken up.
No one feels safe.
Set the record straight.
We need you, Coach Sue.
Hey.
I was thinking about what you said, and you're totally right.
I kind of got inspired when I was rolling down the hallway in between classes.
And the sound it made was almost musical, and it got me thinking; we don't have to have electricity to make music.
We don't even need real instruments.
I didn't say you couldn't use instruments.
I was I know, but think about it.
We want to win regionals, and we're gonna have to do it as a team.
And imagine how we could get everybody working together if we pushed ourselves to pull off a song with nothing but a water bottle and pencils and a zipper, and who knows what else.
You want unplugged.
This would be unplugged squared.
I like it.
Ladies? What is the event the Big Apple's hoi polloi must be invited to or they'll pull a Javert and swan dive off the Chrysler Building? The New York City Ballet Gala, duh.
And guess who gets to attend if they just volunteer a few short hours? Anne Hathaway? It's us, it's us! Are you serious? And just when you thought it couldn't get any gayer, it does.
Make fun of it all you want, but the New York City Ballet Gala, it's a celebration of a timeless art.
If it wasn't for ballet, I wouldn't be here.
It was my gateway into show business.
My dance teacher told me that I was a mini Margot Fonteyn.
She taught me the power of music, and although that dance studio was just a tiny, moldy Lima storefront, to me, it was the most beautiful place on earth.
I started ballet at the ripe old age of three.
My mom enrolled me after seeing me in front of the TV, jetéing and debouléeing to the Blues Clues theme song.
That ballet class was one of the few places that just seemed to fit.
And even when I saw some of the kids and their parents laughing at me, something inside my little brain said, "Screw them.
Just go for it, Hummel.
" My can-do attitude was born in that room.
And I skipped all that crap to study the timeless art of crunk.
Look, you can tell Isabelle that I am definitely in.
Not me, count me out.
You mean you don't want to wear a designer dress from the legendary Vogue.
com vault that you get to keep as a gift? I'm in.
She's in.
She's in.
I know these songs are supposed to be unplugged, but I asked Mr.
Shue permission to do a full orchestration.
Which I gladly agreed to, because Ryder eloquently told me that what he wanted to unplug were his feelings.
I want to really reveal myself through this song.
And frankly, I think I kind of need the support to get there.
I'd like to dedicate this song to all of us, and for all the slushees real and proverbial that we've all taken to the face over the years.
When your day is long And the night The night is yours alone When you're sure you've had enough Of this life Well, hang on Don't let yourself go 'Cause everybody cries And everybody hurts Sometimes Sometimes everything is wrong Now it's time to sing along When your day is night alone Hold on When you feel like letting go Hold on If you think you've had too much Of this life Well, hang on Well, everybody hurts Sometimes Everybody cries Everybody hurts Sometimes And everybody hurts Sometimes So hold on.
That was amazing, Ryder.
You certainly unplugged whatever you were looking to let out.
I didn't want to just get them out.
I wanted to get in touch with them so I could maybe have the balls to tell you guys something.
Something that's pretty hard to talk about.
It's cool, bro.
You can let it out.
I've actually only told one person this.
Not even my parents know.
But I'm not sure if I could trust that person to keep it secret.
So before this gets out, I want to be the one to open the box.
When I was 11, I was molested by my babysitter.
She just walked in on me in the shower, and she touched me a bit.
Wait, hold on.
Did you just say "she"? Like, as in a girl? Like, a teenage girl? Yeah, she was, like, 17, 18.
Dude, you were 11 and some hot 18-year-old plays with your junk? I'd have killed for that.
Why are you ashamed of this? I don't know, I It kind of messed me up a bit.
Like, I have trouble trusting girls because of it, I think.
Guys, this is not something to high-five about.
Ryder, I'm sorry, but I'm obligated to report it.
Whatever, she already got locked up.
She was caught doing it to some other kid.
Okay, I'm sorry, but why-why is that a crime? I mean, it's every teenage boy's fantasy.
I mean, there's, like, 50 '80s movies about it.
I mean, My Tutor, Private Lessons, Gym Class We get it, Sam, thanks.
Guys, this is so uncool.
His truth is his truth, not yours.
You know what, it's cool, okay? Uh, the guys are right.
I don't know what I was thinking.
Uh, I'm, like, the luckiest guy in here.
So You know, yeah.
Good job.
Thanks.
I mean, kid clearly has superior game.
You know, I was sort of surprised when you asked me to dinner, 'cause I know you're, like, dating Jake's brother and everything.
Puck and I broke up.
He dumped me when he went off to live at a college he doesn't go to.
From a distance, Puck is super hot, but you don't really realize until you're right up close how puffy he is.
Here you go.
I don't know why I have such terrible luck with guys.
It's probably because I come on really strong and pretend to be all slutty, and then I freeze up right away and get distant and drop weird hints that my vagina has teeth.
But I didn't come here to talk about the razor-sharp barbs guarding my cervix.
I noticed how withdrawn you got this week in Glee Club after you told everyone your secret.
It may have seemed like no one else in that room understood what you went through, but I did.
It was, um, my friend Julie's older brother.
I was in sixth grade.
One night, Julie had a sleepover, and in the middle of the night, he came down into the basement and crawled into my sleeping bag.
At first, I thought it was a joke.
I didn't know what was happening.
But then he started, um to feel me in places.
In the morning, I went straight home without saying good-bye, and I couldn't tell my parents for a while.
I was afraid of upsetting them or something.
So when I did tell them, they were really confused.
They didn't understand why I waited so long to say something about it.
My mom called his parents, and all I could hear her say was how good of a kid he was and how she didn't know how something like that could happen.
And then Julie stopped talking to me and told everyone at school that I was spreading rumors about her brother.
Then she told all my friends to stop talking to me.
Finally, I just decided it'd just be easier to switch schools.
So I did.
I understand what it feels like to have something like that happen to you and feel like nobody understands.
I guess I just wanted you to know that I do.
Thanks.
Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise Playin' in the street, gonna be a big man someday You got mud on your face, you big disgrace Kickin' your can all over the place, singin' We will We will rock you We will We will rock you Buddy, you're a young man Hard man, shouting in the street Gonna take on the world someday You got blood on your face, you big disgrace Waving your banner all over the place We will We will rock you Sing it! We will We will rock you Buddy, you're an old man Poor man pleading with your eyes Gonna make you some peace someday You got mud on your face Big disgrace, somebody better put you Back into your place Come on! We will We will rock you Sing it! We will We will rock you Everybody We will We will rock you We will We will rock you All right! Da, da-da, da-da Da, da, da, da-da, da-da, da, da, da.
Hi, Coach.
Can I watch it with you? Jackson, you are out of uniform.
I was thinking of quitting the team.
I can't stand how Coach Roz treats me.
Maybe the fact that you grew from an itty-bitty fetus into a full-size adult in less than a calendar year has made you cocky, Robin Sylvester, but around here, we like our protein shakes to taste like human food and not some crazy peanut butter stem cell sauce you cooked up on your Island of Dr.
Moreau! Well, I have always admired her run-on sentences.
Coach, please come back.
I know you did this to protect me.
I'm sorry.
I miss you so bad it hurts.
Oh, honey, I miss you, too.
But the fact is, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
As a trainer, people take me seriously.
and what did it get me? Certainly not their respect.
Just a sad, lazy grab bag of quitters, backstabbers, flip-floppers, lipstick lesbians and ungrateful, sloppy, knocked-up sluts.
And me.
And you.
Becky, I'm sorry, honey, I've moved on, and I can't go back to babysitting brats.
Little girls, little girls Everywhere I turn I can see them Little girls Little girls, night and day I eat, sleep and breathe them I'm an ordinary woman With feelings I like a man to nibble on my ear Though I'll admit No man has bit So how come I'm the mother of the year? Some women are dripping with diamonds Some women are dripping with pearls Lucky me, lucky me Look at what I'm dripping with Little girls Someday I'll land in the nuthouse With all the nuts and the squirrels There I'll stay, tucked away Till the prohibition of Little Girls Becky, you couldn't pay me to go back to that.
And I don't miss them at all.
Not one bit.
Not at all.
Okay, you're on Rex Reed duty, Kurt.
Keep him away from the open bar.
Gotcha.
Hey, Santana, how do you feel about Cherry Jones? Whatevs.
Miss Isabelle, I'm sorry, I know that we're just volunteers here, but Kurt and I were wondering if there was any possibility that we could maybe watch the performance from the audience.
Absolutely not.
I'm sorry.
You're gonna be watching from the wings with me.
It's the best seat in the house.
Santana, you want to join us? Oh, Santana doesn't like ballet.
She's only here for the gown and the swag-bag.
Oh, I don't believe that.
Every little girl, no matter where she ends up even at Vogue.
com starts out wanting to be a ballerina.
Not Santana.
We've discussed it.
Kurt, can I just show you Shut up, Berry.
I actually did take ballet classes.
My abuela put me in them when I was little, because I was such a tomboy and it really pissed my dad off.
I only took a few lessons, but it helped me, uh, escape a little, you know? It was the first time I danced.
I felt safe there, and not different.
And part of something beautiful.
Daddy always thought that he married beneath him That's what he said, that's what he said When he proposed, he informed my mother It was probably her very last chance And though she was 22 Though she was 22 Though she was 22 She married him Life with my dad wasn't ever a picnic More like a come-as-you-are When I was five, I remember my mother Dug earrings out of the car I knew that they weren't hers But it wasn't something you want to discuss He wasn't warm Well, not to her.
Well, not to us.
But everything was beautiful At the ballet Graceful men lift lovely girls in white Yes, everything was beautiful At the ballet I was happy At the ballet That's when I started ballet class.
Up a steep and very narrow stairway To the voice like a metronome Up a steep and very narrow stairway It wasn't paradise It wasn't paradise It wasn't paradise But it was home Mother always said I'd be very attractive When I grew up, when I grew up Different, she said, with a special something And a very, very personal flair And though I was eight or nine Though I was eight or nine Though I was eight or nine I hated her Now, different is nice, but it sure isn't pretty Pretty is what it's about I never met anyone who was different Who couldn't figure that out So beautiful I'd never live to see But it was clear If not to her well, then to me.
That everyone is beautiful At the ballet Every prince has got to have His swan Yes, everyone is beautiful At the ballet Hey I was pretty At the ballet I was born to save their marriage.
But when my father came to pick my mother up at the hospital, he said, "Well, I thought this was gonna help, but I guess not.
" A few months later, he left.
And he never came back.
Anyway, I had this fantastic fantasy life.
I used to dance around the living room with my arms up like this.
And in my fantasy, there was an Indian chief, and he would say to me, "Izzy, do you want to dance?" And I would say, "Daddy", I would love to dance.
" Do, do-do, do But it was clear When he proposed That I was born To help their marriage and when That's what she said That's what he said I used to dance around The living room Do-do-do-do He wasn't warm Not to her It was an Indian chief, and he'd say "Izzy, do you want to dance?" And I'd say, "Daddy, I would love to" Everything was beautiful At the ballet Raise your arms And someone's always there Yes, everything was beautiful At the ballet The ballet The ballet Yes, everything was beautiful At the ballet Hey I was pretty I was happy I would love to At the ballet.
Sorry.
Listen, I really love dancing.
I just am not like you guys.
I don't know what I want to do or how I'm even gonna get there.
But you have plenty of time to figure it out.
And it doesn't have to be ballet or Broadway, just as long as it's something that you love, something that feeds your soul.
And, Santana, baby steps are okay.
Sue's adult baby is being a belligerent pain in my booty, and I am not gonna take it anymore! First she started making fart noises every time I bent over.
Then she started making fart noises every time I blinked.
Ain't nobody fart every time they blink that's crazy! Then Robin Sylvester called me "Coach Chocolate Pie.
" I marched her down here so you can decide what to do with her.
It's your problem! Becky Jackson, you can't insult the sultry and mysterious Coach Roz Washington.
She is an African-American treasure.
I only misbehaved so she'd send me here to talk to you.
Why didn't you just come here yourself? I didn't think of that.
Principal Figgins, I need to tell you something.
Citizens of McKinley, the power has been restored.
Congratulations to all of us for refusing to resort to idol worship and rampant cannibalism.
We have discovered that the blackout occurred when a Mylar balloon congratulating my secretary Donna on her successful hysterectomy became trapped in an outlet behind her file cabinet.
McKinley Titans, it is a new dawn.
Let us welcome a new era of peace and prosperity.
Yours truly, Principal Figgins.
Okay, let's flip some switches and rock out, please.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, guys.
Don't plug back in just yet.
There's one more thing this power outage can really drive home for us: The power of singing a capella.
I hate whistling.
Nothing but our voices for this next number.
No other instruments or bottles or tools or anything.
At the end of the day, our voices are the only instruments that truly matter.
So make it count.
Hey, son of Frankenteen.
I just started the Subway diet, and it's time for my second five-dollar foot-long.
Want to buy it for me? Um I'm kidding.
Come on, I'll buy you a sub.
I have, like, 20 more humiliating stories to tell you.
That sounds awesome, but I can't.
Kind of have a date.
With who? Katie.
The catfish? How can you pick an online fantasy over an actual fantasy? She's not a fantasy.
She's a projection.
She's whatever you want her to be.
Why do you think you get along so well? You have no real intimacy with this person.
Stop embarrassing yourself and come have lunch with me.
Look, I get that this seems a little kooky, and part of me really wants to go with you right now, but I'm sorry.
I don't warm to people easily, and I was really starting to like you.
Maybe after I find out who Katie is and we straighten all this out, we could go out then.
I don't think so.
I hope that You're late.
I like to make an entrance.
And if we're really gonna talk about late, can you say something to Gramps right here? Sit.
Excuse me.
This is NYADA Extension.
You sign up, you pay, you get in.
Anyone.
And what I was going to say was that I hope none of you came here expecting that it would help you get into NYADA as a student.
Good.
'Cause the last thing I want to do is pay 30 grand a year to get a degree for doing something that I'm already freakin' Wonder Woman at.
Then what are you doing here? I love to dance.
I'm an artist, but I sort of lost touch with that part of myself lately, and so I'm here to do some reintroducing.
I can dig that.
Everybody up.
To the bar.
Pliés, please.
Two demi, one grand, port de bras forward.
Don't forget me again, okay? I won't.
I promise.
I've got you now.
Bum, bum, bum Whoa, oh, oh, oh The longest For the longest time Time Whoa, oh, oh The longest For the longest Ooh, ooh, ooh If you said Good-bye to me tonight Ooh, ooh, ooh There would Still be music left to write Ah, ah, ah What else could I do? I'm so inspired by you I haven't been there For the longest time Whoa, oh, oh, oh The longest For the longest time Time Whoa, oh, oh The longest For the longest Ooh, ooh, ooh I'm that voice You're hearing in the hall Ah, ooh, ooh, ooh And the greatest Miracle of all Ah, ah, ah Is how I need you And how you needed me, too That hasn't happened for the longest time Ba-ba-bum, wa-ooh Maybe this won't Last very long But you feel so right And I could be wrong Maybe I've been Hoping too hard But I've gone this far And it's more than I hoped for Ooh, ooh, ooh Who knows how Much further we'll go on Ooh, ooh, ooh Maybe I'll be Sorry when you're gone Ah, ah, ah I want you so bad I think you ought to know that I intend to hold you for the longest time Whoa, oh, oh, oh The longest For the longest time Whoa, oh, oh The longest For the longest time Whoa, oh, oh The longest time The longest For the longest time Whoa, oh, oh The longest For the longest time.
Nice.