"See you in Glee Club, Sue." He moved forward to pat me on the shoulder. I raised my hands up in a defensive stance. "Don't touch me." He shrugged, put up his hands in an okay-have-it-your-way position, and then quickly poked me on the shoulder. The nerve!
"That is lawsuit, mister, I will SUE YOUR ASS!" I screamed indignantly. That butt-chinned little Broadway failure had no right to touch me with his greasy hands. You know how I know that they're greasy? Cause I bet he runs his hands through his hair, which is filled with enough grease to cook a whole mess of bacon and eggs to feed a band of HOBOS!
I stormed to my office angrily. This was going to be a thrilling entry to write in my diary. But then I saw Wheels and Gay Kid talking to Brittany. What has this world come to, God, where a Cheerio and a loser in Glee Club came together? In Glee Club! I then came up with my brilliant plan. What did they call all the lesser ones, the ones even lesser than the losers?
One word.
MINORITIES.
Yes, I was going to turn Schuester's little karaoke club into a result worse than the time that the Appalachian Indians traded the Cherokees an ear of corn. When one Cherokee ate one, he started to taste like corn, and the tribe became cannibals and ate each other out of greed.
"I feel that minorities deserve respect," I stated. "And that's how Sue sees it." I smiled proudly into the camera. Take that, Lima, Ohio. "Oh, Andrea," I stopped at the anchor's table thing, "that piece on the chimpanzee's wedding? I saw the pictures." She nodded, annoyed, and waiting for me to get to the point. But, being Sue Sylvester, I took my sweet time.
"You and Rod looked very handsome." I walked away, triumphant.
The next day, at the choir room, I sat next to the black thing with little white rectangles on it. I figured out later that it was called a piano. I called Gloria Allred to set a position to legally change the name of this piano.
"Okay, Sue, take your Cheerios and your football players," Will said resignedly. I shook my head pityingly. I called all the "minorities," and Santana, being a faithful spy, defended me. "And that's how Sue sees it," she said, using my signature local news pose.
"Outstanding."