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Glee Amazing Race: Tenth Leg - Pit Stop
Team Inevitable Family Team
"How're you doing, Dad?" Kurt asks as they set a steady pace toward the ship. "Those carvings looked pretty heavy. And you had to carry the top ones up that ladder, and—"
"I'm fine," Burt says shortly. "How're you doing? Don't say 'fine.'"
"...I'm doing okay."
Burt shoots him a look. "Your leg bothering you at all?"
"No," Kurt says glumly. "It's great."
"Then why do you sound so pissed off about the fact that you didn't break your neck falling down that hill?"
Kurt swallows, hems and haws, and then finally says, "I really didn't want to break my neck, Dad." He doesn't want to kill himself! He wants to be dramatically injured.
"Don't treat me like an idiot, Kurt. You started off normal on this race, but you've hurt yourself over and over. Everyone else only did what they could manage. You went flying past that limit without a thought for what it was doing to you." Burt shakes his head. "Were you looking at where you were going on that trail?"
"Yes! I didn't mean to slip." Kurt brushes at his clothes. They're ruined from the mud and moss stains. Obviously he would never deliberately ruin clothing.
Burt doesn't look like he believes him. "Why're you doing this? You've already made more money than anyone else off these shows. You can't want to win this bad." Kurt mumbles something that doesn't answer to his satisfaction, so Burt stops right there on the sidewalk and demands an explanation. "We're not moving until you tell me what you're doing, Kurt."
After futilely trying to drag his father toward the boat, Kurt sighs and says, "The accountants told me that half the money's already gone to taxes. You spent so much on me this year for school, and there's medical debt and wedding debt and college coming up and I want to go to New York and there's hardly any more expensive place on the planet...." He sighs again. "I can't be boring. If the producers think I was a drain on this show then they might not want me back for that show."
Burt gawks at him. His son was nearly killing himself so he wouldn't be boring? "We are fine. We are better than fine. You let your mom and me worry about this kind of stuff, and you stop hurting yourself!" He sees Kurt about to argue and goes all Dad Face to cut him off. "How would you feel if you knew I'd been trying to hurt myself on purpose?"
"Mad. Scared," Kurt admits, and shrinks under his dad's pointed glare. "Point taken."
"It doesn't matter if we win," Burt says as they set back into motion toward the ship. "We did great. You got that?"
"Okay," Kurt says meekly.
Burt still eyes him all the way to the mat. Holly looks a little bored as she checks them in as team number one and says that as winners they've won, uh... a lovely drinking glass.
"You just picked that up off the table," Burt says.
"It's a lovely piece of glasswork," Holly says, and then holds it and gestures dramatically at their 'prize' like she's a model on The Price is Right. "Ooh."
"It's still half full of your... whatever you're drinking." Burt rolls his eyes at her answer of 'sex on the beach'; of course. "And it's got lipstick on it."
"You ran out of bad prizes that I wouldn't like, didn't you?" Kurt asks.
"Pretty much," Holly admits. "I mean, in the pile there's this trip to Milan or year-long spa pass or front-row tickets and plane fare to any location on Britney's tour, but I didn't expect you to come in first so much. I mean, you're just so prissy."
"Come on," Burt says and leads his son off. "I'm staying in that room all night to make sure you don't try to throw yourself off the side or something." He gives the impression of anticipating another Talk or twelve during that night, all about winning versus what's really important in life. But cheer up, Kurt: you have that awesome lipstick-covered glass.
Teams How Did This Happen and PTA
"Good work," Quinn says shortly as she hustles toward the ship looming over the town.
"Quinn, slow down," Emma says. Her breath is coming in short pants.
"We're already behind two teams, and Puck and Finn are behind us. They can make up time on foot. Do you want to come this far only to lose?"
"No," Emma says, but she was the one who was just lugging heavy objects up a ladder. It's much easier for Quinn to talk about pushing herself.
"What's your year been like?" Quinn asks. When Emma looks uncertain she demands, "Year! Has it sucked? Describe!"
"Well, let's see," Emma says. "I got married too fast, hurt the feelings of a really good guy, and wound up worse than I started." Wow. That is depressing. She tries to turn her voice toward a happier setting. "But then I've been doing really good in therapy, and I think I'm making a lot of progress!"
"So your year sucked," Quinn summarizes. Emma nods reluctantly. "Okay, well, I was coming off last year where I was the big pregnant joke of the school. I lost the Cheerios again because Sue is psychotic, dated a guy who it turns out never really wanted me, had a big secret spread around school when I was trying to win Prom Queen and lost anyway, and then I didn't even make merge in Survivor."
"I wasn't even on Survivor," Emma counters, although that's probably for the best. Just looking at those shelters on television made her arms itch.
"Right!" Quinn agrees. "Our years have sucked! So let's kick some ass on this and make up for it!"
Emma considers that, reaches down into her wee little body, and manages to find some inner reserve of strength. She speeds her pace and both women set off jogging toward the ship. They see two cameramen up ahead with a giant tower of a woman between them. Carole Hudson might blend into the general tourist crowds in the town, but Shannon Beiste is unmistakeable. "Come on," Emma says and speeds her pace further. Quinn, beaming with pride, follows.
"Quinn and Emma," Carole says when she realizes a team is passing them. "Can you walk faster at all?"
Shannon tries, but soon slows and shakes her head. "I'm real sorry." She just feels awful. Putting this Pit Stop at the end of a jog was sadistic. "I'm trying, I really am, but there's just nothing left in the tank."
Carole nods sympathetically. Wow, she understood that metaphor. Her partner must really be off her game. "So that means Finn and Puck are behind us," she says meaningfully.
Shannon looks at her out of the corner of her eye. "You okay with that?"
"He did really well," Carole settles on. "He should be very proud of himself. I checked to make sure he was okay after that boat accident, and he's fine."
"In other words, you don't care that you're about to knock your boy out of the running."
"Well, it's either him or me at this point," Carole says, and Shannon smirks. She just got a flash of what game night or bowling must be like for the Hudsons. "You know, we did pretty well," she says through short breaths as they approach the gangplank. "Being 'Team Pleasant Middle-Aged Women' and all."
"Sure did," Shannon agrees. "We showed them."
"We really did."
The Panther stops to hurl over the side of the gangplank as they make their way up to check in behind Quinn and Emma as team number three, but other than that: fierce.
Team Dudebro
Puck is nauseated. Finn is cold and grumpy.
"Let's just drive," Finn says. "We're in last place anyway."
"We're not punking out," Puck argues. "Come on." He sets a firm pace down the road, which lasts for about ten steps before he has to slow down so his very footsteps don't jostle his stomach.
"We had a good run," Finn says as he thinks back to the race. "Saw cool stuff. We drove through the middle of Africa. That was neat."
"Got together with a bunch of hot French chicks," Puck adds nostalgically.
"Yeah, not so much. That pissed off Rachel." Finn helps steer Puck down the sidewalk when he starts stumbling a little; that boy really needs to get off his feet. "And you can't seriously tell me that Lauren's going to be okay with it."
"It was in another country!"
"Is she really going to care?"
"...No," Puck admits. "She's going to be pissed."
"So she's going to leave you as a smear on the pavement," Finn says. Puck takes offense, of course, but he just rolls his eyes. From what he's seen of those two, if Lauren wants to make a point, that point gets made.
"You might still get the money," Puck says grumpily after a couple of blocks. "I won't. You might."
"That's true," Finn says, and is slightly cheered by the reminder. "And we won that cool entertainment center. And a trip to Arizona. And hey, we've got our cruise."
Puck pales. "Dude. I am not getting on a boat. You have to take Mike or Sam or something. Artie. Mr. Schue. Drag Kurt to the Caribbean and watch him run screaming from the sun like a vampire. I don't care."
Finn boggles at him. "You don't want to go?" On their awesome cruise? But it's a cruise, and it's awesome!
"I am never getting on a boat again," Puck says as they promptly reach the dock and he is faced with getting on a boat. "Shit."
"Come on," Finn says, pushing him up the gangplank. "You just have to check in."
Puck protests all the way up, but is relieved to find that the large cruise ship is like being on dry ground. It doesn't move at all. He doesn't feel any worse. "Okay," he says, trying to cheer himself up. "Maybe I can handle the cruise if it's on a boat like this."
"Good," Finn says as they make their way to Holly and wait for the bad news. "Are we out?"
"You're out," she confirms.
"I'm gonna go get in a hot shower," Finn says without any further conversation and wanders off.
"Do you think it's okay to do it with someone besides your girlfriend if you're in another country?" Puck asks Holly.
"Sure," she says with a shrug. "But I'm horrifically inappropriate."
Oh. Good point. Puck sighs and wanders off. Maybe there's a shop on board that sells Pepto.
"Is anyone going to sing?" Holly calls after him. None of the people are singing! Don't they know it's a tradition at this point? Just because they're all exhausted and jetlagged and want this race to be over, it doesn't mean they're allowed to break the streak! She considers that, points to a random person walking across the deck, and starts crooning.
The captain rolls his eyes and walks on.
He's really glad he doesn't actually have to take the racers with him to another port.
"How're you doing, Dad?" Kurt asks as they set a steady pace toward the ship. "Those carvings looked pretty heavy. And you had to carry the top ones up that ladder, and—"
"I'm fine," Burt says shortly. "How're you doing? Don't say 'fine.'"
"...I'm doing okay."
Burt shoots him a look. "Your leg bothering you at all?"
"No," Kurt says glumly. "It's great."
"Then why do you sound so pissed off about the fact that you didn't break your neck falling down that hill?"
Kurt swallows, hems and haws, and then finally says, "I really didn't want to break my neck, Dad." He doesn't want to kill himself! He wants to be dramatically injured.
"Don't treat me like an idiot, Kurt. You started off normal on this race, but you've hurt yourself over and over. Everyone else only did what they could manage. You went flying past that limit without a thought for what it was doing to you." Burt shakes his head. "Were you looking at where you were going on that trail?"
"Yes! I didn't mean to slip." Kurt brushes at his clothes. They're ruined from the mud and moss stains. Obviously he would never deliberately ruin clothing.
Burt doesn't look like he believes him. "Why're you doing this? You've already made more money than anyone else off these shows. You can't want to win this bad." Kurt mumbles something that doesn't answer to his satisfaction, so Burt stops right there on the sidewalk and demands an explanation. "We're not moving until you tell me what you're doing, Kurt."
After futilely trying to drag his father toward the boat, Kurt sighs and says, "The accountants told me that half the money's already gone to taxes. You spent so much on me this year for school, and there's medical debt and wedding debt and college coming up and I want to go to New York and there's hardly any more expensive place on the planet...." He sighs again. "I can't be boring. If the producers think I was a drain on this show then they might not want me back for that show."
Burt gawks at him. His son was nearly killing himself so he wouldn't be boring? "We are fine. We are better than fine. You let your mom and me worry about this kind of stuff, and you stop hurting yourself!" He sees Kurt about to argue and goes all Dad Face to cut him off. "How would you feel if you knew I'd been trying to hurt myself on purpose?"
"Mad. Scared," Kurt admits, and shrinks under his dad's pointed glare. "Point taken."
"It doesn't matter if we win," Burt says as they set back into motion toward the ship. "We did great. You got that?"
"Okay," Kurt says meekly.
Burt still eyes him all the way to the mat. Holly looks a little bored as she checks them in as team number one and says that as winners they've won, uh... a lovely drinking glass.
"You just picked that up off the table," Burt says.
"It's a lovely piece of glasswork," Holly says, and then holds it and gestures dramatically at their 'prize' like she's a model on The Price is Right. "Ooh."
"It's still half full of your... whatever you're drinking." Burt rolls his eyes at her answer of 'sex on the beach'; of course. "And it's got lipstick on it."
"You ran out of bad prizes that I wouldn't like, didn't you?" Kurt asks.
"Pretty much," Holly admits. "I mean, in the pile there's this trip to Milan or year-long spa pass or front-row tickets and plane fare to any location on Britney's tour, but I didn't expect you to come in first so much. I mean, you're just so prissy."
"Come on," Burt says and leads his son off. "I'm staying in that room all night to make sure you don't try to throw yourself off the side or something." He gives the impression of anticipating another Talk or twelve during that night, all about winning versus what's really important in life. But cheer up, Kurt: you have that awesome lipstick-covered glass.
Teams How Did This Happen and PTA
"Good work," Quinn says shortly as she hustles toward the ship looming over the town.
"Quinn, slow down," Emma says. Her breath is coming in short pants.
"We're already behind two teams, and Puck and Finn are behind us. They can make up time on foot. Do you want to come this far only to lose?"
"No," Emma says, but she was the one who was just lugging heavy objects up a ladder. It's much easier for Quinn to talk about pushing herself.
"What's your year been like?" Quinn asks. When Emma looks uncertain she demands, "Year! Has it sucked? Describe!"
"Well, let's see," Emma says. "I got married too fast, hurt the feelings of a really good guy, and wound up worse than I started." Wow. That is depressing. She tries to turn her voice toward a happier setting. "But then I've been doing really good in therapy, and I think I'm making a lot of progress!"
"So your year sucked," Quinn summarizes. Emma nods reluctantly. "Okay, well, I was coming off last year where I was the big pregnant joke of the school. I lost the Cheerios again because Sue is psychotic, dated a guy who it turns out never really wanted me, had a big secret spread around school when I was trying to win Prom Queen and lost anyway, and then I didn't even make merge in Survivor."
"I wasn't even on Survivor," Emma counters, although that's probably for the best. Just looking at those shelters on television made her arms itch.
"Right!" Quinn agrees. "Our years have sucked! So let's kick some ass on this and make up for it!"
Emma considers that, reaches down into her wee little body, and manages to find some inner reserve of strength. She speeds her pace and both women set off jogging toward the ship. They see two cameramen up ahead with a giant tower of a woman between them. Carole Hudson might blend into the general tourist crowds in the town, but Shannon Beiste is unmistakeable. "Come on," Emma says and speeds her pace further. Quinn, beaming with pride, follows.
"Quinn and Emma," Carole says when she realizes a team is passing them. "Can you walk faster at all?"
Shannon tries, but soon slows and shakes her head. "I'm real sorry." She just feels awful. Putting this Pit Stop at the end of a jog was sadistic. "I'm trying, I really am, but there's just nothing left in the tank."
Carole nods sympathetically. Wow, she understood that metaphor. Her partner must really be off her game. "So that means Finn and Puck are behind us," she says meaningfully.
Shannon looks at her out of the corner of her eye. "You okay with that?"
"He did really well," Carole settles on. "He should be very proud of himself. I checked to make sure he was okay after that boat accident, and he's fine."
"In other words, you don't care that you're about to knock your boy out of the running."
"Well, it's either him or me at this point," Carole says, and Shannon smirks. She just got a flash of what game night or bowling must be like for the Hudsons. "You know, we did pretty well," she says through short breaths as they approach the gangplank. "Being 'Team Pleasant Middle-Aged Women' and all."
"Sure did," Shannon agrees. "We showed them."
"We really did."
The Panther stops to hurl over the side of the gangplank as they make their way up to check in behind Quinn and Emma as team number three, but other than that: fierce.
Team Dudebro
Puck is nauseated. Finn is cold and grumpy.
"Let's just drive," Finn says. "We're in last place anyway."
"We're not punking out," Puck argues. "Come on." He sets a firm pace down the road, which lasts for about ten steps before he has to slow down so his very footsteps don't jostle his stomach.
"We had a good run," Finn says as he thinks back to the race. "Saw cool stuff. We drove through the middle of Africa. That was neat."
"Got together with a bunch of hot French chicks," Puck adds nostalgically.
"Yeah, not so much. That pissed off Rachel." Finn helps steer Puck down the sidewalk when he starts stumbling a little; that boy really needs to get off his feet. "And you can't seriously tell me that Lauren's going to be okay with it."
"It was in another country!"
"Is she really going to care?"
"...No," Puck admits. "She's going to be pissed."
"So she's going to leave you as a smear on the pavement," Finn says. Puck takes offense, of course, but he just rolls his eyes. From what he's seen of those two, if Lauren wants to make a point, that point gets made.
"You might still get the money," Puck says grumpily after a couple of blocks. "I won't. You might."
"That's true," Finn says, and is slightly cheered by the reminder. "And we won that cool entertainment center. And a trip to Arizona. And hey, we've got our cruise."
Puck pales. "Dude. I am not getting on a boat. You have to take Mike or Sam or something. Artie. Mr. Schue. Drag Kurt to the Caribbean and watch him run screaming from the sun like a vampire. I don't care."
Finn boggles at him. "You don't want to go?" On their awesome cruise? But it's a cruise, and it's awesome!
"I am never getting on a boat again," Puck says as they promptly reach the dock and he is faced with getting on a boat. "Shit."
"Come on," Finn says, pushing him up the gangplank. "You just have to check in."
Puck protests all the way up, but is relieved to find that the large cruise ship is like being on dry ground. It doesn't move at all. He doesn't feel any worse. "Okay," he says, trying to cheer himself up. "Maybe I can handle the cruise if it's on a boat like this."
"Good," Finn says as they make their way to Holly and wait for the bad news. "Are we out?"
"You're out," she confirms.
"I'm gonna go get in a hot shower," Finn says without any further conversation and wanders off.
"Do you think it's okay to do it with someone besides your girlfriend if you're in another country?" Puck asks Holly.
"Sure," she says with a shrug. "But I'm horrifically inappropriate."
Oh. Good point. Puck sighs and wanders off. Maybe there's a shop on board that sells Pepto.
"Is anyone going to sing?" Holly calls after him. None of the people are singing! Don't they know it's a tradition at this point? Just because they're all exhausted and jetlagged and want this race to be over, it doesn't mean they're allowed to break the streak! She considers that, points to a random person walking across the deck, and starts crooning.
The captain rolls his eyes and walks on.
He's really glad he doesn't actually have to take the racers with him to another port.
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And now Holly is just getting mean. Seriously. You know, at the start of this race, she and Kurt seemed to like each other, but I'm now thinking this is a grudge that Kurt is going to nurse like a fine Chablis. (And revenge, like white wine, is best served chilled.)
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People seemed to like it last time, so I'll bring it over again.
Dudebros out?
Hmph!!
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Pouty Cory/Finn will never not be funny.
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Thanks yet again for how much fun we're having. Go you!
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Maybe another pair of Jetskis since production spent the rest of the million keeping these guys in swanky hotels across the world.