"All I'm saying is if you hadn't kept making noise about that Beatles/T-Pain mash-up, we'd have something to show for a week's worth of set-list nomination parties."
Kurt, Puck, and Santana made their way slowly through the Performing Arts' corridor as they were buffeted by the crowds streaming down the hallway. Why was it that when anyone from the glee club decided to walk from classroom to classroom, everybody seemed to be walking in the opposite direction? It was Friday afternoon and the bell had just rung, and everyone was practically evacuating the school so they could get on with their Friday night activities. Everyone except the glee club.
"Like, we started on Monday. This is taking longer than Kim Kardashian's marriage," said Kurt.
"Speak for yourself, Von Trapp," said Santana. "The Troubletones have already decided on the perfect angsty-yet-crowd-pleasing selection for Nationals. You guys are the ones still flapping your gabs about which artistically inferior song from the '80s you want to perform this time."
"Oh yeah?" snorted Puck. "Let me guess – Brittany has roped you all into doing a mash-up of 'Rainbow Connection' and the Sesame Street theme song."
"Shut your pot hole, Puckerman. When was the last time you had a girlfriend?" retorted Santana hotly. "As a matter of fact, we're doing the subtle yet explosive 'Shake It Out' by Florence and the Machine."
Kurt squealed and clapped his hands together excitedly.
"Ohmigod! That is perfect. You and Mercedes are going to kill that song!" he gushed. "I wish we could come up with something half as fabulous."
He shook his head and sighed dramatically.
"You stole Adele, you stole Destiny's Child, now you're stealing Florence? Honestly, Santana, there'll be no good artists left!"
"Tell me about it," smirked Santana. "You said it yourself. We're just better."
"Only because you've got so much girl power," teased Kurt. "Sometimes I feel like – "
SPLASH! Out of nowhere a cherry-flavored icy torrent flew straight into Kurt's perfectly moisturized face. He stood there gasping and spluttering while Puck and Santana just blinked in shock.
"Look at that," guffawed Azimio, wielding an empty slushy cup and a self-satisfied grin. Kurt's eyes shot daggers at him as he glared up at him through his sopping, sticky bangs. "You've got a new fashion statement, girl," Azimio continued. "Good luck rocking that!"
"Hey!"
Puck and Santana spun around. A short-ish, mousy-looking girl was marching toward Azimio, arms folded across her chest in defiance.
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Her vivid green eyes looked like they could burn a hole through steel. With a start, Puck realized that it was the violin girl he had seen in the auditorium on Monday. He had almost forgotten. Well, not quite. He had to explain to Mr. Schue why he had been late to the first set-list nomination party ("Sorry I'm late, Mr. Schue, I was at the doctor's office; they think I might have syphilis…"), and ever since then he had been getting some very concerned voicemail messages from Ms. Pillsbury insisting she was available if he ever needed to talk, although he only said syphilis because he heard it was some disease that made you go crazy, and it's not nice to ask crazy people why they're crazy so he thought he could get away with it, but he had a feeling that maybe syphilis was something different. He made a mental note to Google it when he got home.
"None of your business, Brain Trust!"
Azimio's booming voice snapped him back into reality. The girl had firmly planted herself in between Kurt (who was still spluttering) and Azimio, and was staring him down like she planned to make a meal out of him.
"Maybe not, but I'm having trouble understanding why it's any of yours," she challenged. Even though she was a good foot shorter than Azimio, she still managed to sneer down at him.
"Come again?"
"You heard me!" she snapped. "You want me to believe that this kid did something to you personally, so personally that it seemed to merit this completely uncivilized form of retaliation?"
"It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean," Azimio guffawed. He was on familiar ground now.
The girl blinked as a slow and triumphant smile rose on her face. Puck was almost frightened by the confidence with which she slowly took a step towards Azimio, crossing her arms firmly across her chest.
"I understand," she said. Her voice was much quieter now, much more controlled. Every syllable sizzled with a suppressed animosity. Puck had a feeling that this couldn't mean anything good for Azimio.
"I understand," she repeated. "You just parade around this school with your false sense of accomplishment, and you think people are impressed but they really just don't like you, so they won't have anything to do with you and you just can't tell the difference. And you know why? Because you're stupid. You think that tossing slushies into people's faces and throwing people into lockers adds something to your life. I know you're good at being selfish, so think about this: what's in it for you? What is it about tormenting other people that is going to get you anywhere? And I know about ninety percent of this is going straight over your head because you're dumber than a bag of rocks, but just remember that everybody here knows you're nothing more than an oaf. I'm assuming I won't have to define that three letter word for you."
Puck gaped at her. He had never seen anyone stood up to this way. She sounded like she had rehearsed this speech for months, just to get the inflections right. Her chest was heaving up and down - he could tell she was afraid of Azimio, but she was doing a damn good job of hiding it. He glanced at Kurt and Santana. Kurt was so flabbergasted he had even abandoned trying to wipe the slushie residue from his silk capelet. Santana looked impressed. Puck turned his attention back to the girl. She was still glaring at Azimio, and her eyes still looked like they could cut ice.
"You better watch out," hissed Azimio. His hammy hands were balled up into fists. "Run on back to the library, why don't you? You don't belong here."
The girl laughed, but Puck could tell it was forced. She was starting to look really frightened now.
"Really? I don't belong here?" she scoffed. "Goodness, what tipped you off about that? I'm the smartest person in this school, probably in this town as well, and you don't think I'm smart enough to realize that? I'm going to New York when I get out of here. Or Paris. You're destined for the underpass."
All of a sudden, Azimio's fat fists were out and swinging, and the girl fell to the floor with a violent crash.