DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and any original characters that might pop up every now and then. Get back in the closet! You don't come out till the next chapter!

The Glee girls all sat on the plane, waiting for the boring, long, un-needed plane ride to England since the boys flight was fifteen minutes before theirs. Santana huffed and rapped her nails against the armrest. She turned her head sharply when she heard a thump in the seat next to her.

"Berry, what did you do with Britt?"

"I have done nothing to Brittany, Santana. She was moved to sit next to Mercedes." Rachel stated, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Why?"

"She chose to, and we don't really trust you two to sit together on a long plane ride when you could plot something against us."

And this is why we don't, you gang up on us, Santana thought as she went back to rapping her nails on the seat.

"Damnit, Treasure Trail, who told you that?"

"Brittany, calm down," Mercedes said for the tenth time in five minutes.

"Hey, 'Cedes? I think my cat started smoking and reading my diary at the same time."

Oh. Joy.

"C'mon girls!" Ms. Pillsbury yelled over the hustle-and-bustle of the airport. As the girls got their luggage-Rachel a pink trolley bag, Santana a cheetah print suitcase, Brittany a Cheerios bag, Mercedes a neon peace sign suitcase, Quinn a white bag that had a key chain with Jesus on it, and Tina a black, skull embroidered case-she looked for the car that would take them to St. Trinians.

And then she saw it. A paint swirl covered van that she thought looked like it belonged to a bunch of hippies. Two blonde little girls held a sign that said "St. Trinians."

"Oh, well, this is going to need some cleaning. About a weeks worth." She shook her head and walked back inside to get her students. She gathered them up and showed them where the van was.

"C'mon, 'urry up now. 'Fore next year comes 'round," Taylor and Bianca yelled to the girls, who were struggling with their bags. Bianca noticed Brittany's bag and questioned,"Aye, you, blondie. Waz' Cheerios?"

"Cheerios," Santana huffed out quickly so that she could save Brittany from humiliation,"is the cheer squad at Mckinley High School, in America."

"Waz' a cheer squad?" Taylor said, obviously dumbfounded. Santana and Brittany busted out laughing.

"Y-You, you don't know-"

"-what a cheer squad is?"

"No...wha' is it?"

"Oh my god, she's serious, San."

"What the hell! How can you not know what a cheer squad is! Do you live in like nerd-geek-loser-world? No, scratch that, even dweebs would know what cheerleaders are. Whatever. Anyways, a cheer squad is a bunch of awesome, flexible, strong girls that do extreme gymnastics routines that the coach designs."

Needless to say, the three girls argued over this the whole ride to St. Trinians.

And then it just got worse. The ever-so-devious Twins, Tania and Tara, pulled a little prank on the newcomers.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Tania said, pulling at Ms. Pillsbury's skirt, "No newcomers can ride in the van past this piont. You need to get out. And walk the rest of the way"

"Oh, um, okay." The girls all piled out of the van, only to be greeted with a giant puddle of...stuff. And since the girls pushed their way out, they literally were in a pile, leaving them all sitting on the ground. And to make it very cliche-like, the devil-children drove off and splashed the girls with the stuff that doesn't have a name becuase we don't know what it is.

"GOD DAMNITT!" Santana screamed after the van,"I HATE YOU FRICKIN' BITCHES!"

Ms. Pillsbury, Rachel, Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany all trudged into the foyer of St. Trinians, dripping -I'll just call it mud-mud all over the place, only to see Beverly nodding her head to music, oblivious to anything around her. Ms. Pillsbury rang the bell. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally Mercedes just yanked the headphones out of Beverly's ears.

"We're here to see Ms. Fritton," Emma said.

"You don't happen to be from Island Revenues, do ya'?" Emma shook her head. "M'kay. Miz' Fritton, there's some girls here ta see ya'. They don't look like they got a pot ta piss in."

"Beverly!" the woman on the other line exclaimed.

"Sorry. They look like they don't got a pot in which ta piss."

"Much better." Beverly directed her attention away from the intercom.

"Miz' Fritton will see ya' now."

A/N- Ok, I just went through this chapter and corrected the typos. There were alot. I feel kinda stupid. Hmm...
And I know that this is alot like Defenders Of Anarchy by mewisbetterthatyou, but it won't be in the next chappie, promise.

-Indigo Teardrops