"No."

"Why no?"

"No way!"

"Come on, Kurt!"

"NO!"

"Please?"

"Forget it."

"But - "

I whipped around to face him, livid.

"I am not about to put on a pair of heels and a corset just to rehearse that scene with you!"

"But the whole point is that I need to get used to the crazy outfit."

"Yeah, but Mercedes is a girl!"

"Oh, so you have something against transvestites."

"NO!" God, I wanted to smack him. "What makes you think I even own heels?"

"I overheard Mercedes and Quinn talking about how you wore, like, the craziest heels when you guys did a GaGa number."

Dammit. "...I don't know, Tim Curry has huge shoes to fill..."

"Hey, personally, I think you should've been cast as Frank."

I whipped around again, my face inches from him. "Why, cause I'm gay?"

"No!" His hands flew to his hair. "Gaaaaaah. It's just, you're so talented-"

"To be perfectly honest, Samuel," I replied. "Frank N. Furter is tall and extremely masculine. I don't think my body fits the bill."

"So, you're saying you're not man enough?"

Okay, that was it. "You know what?"

I marched downstairs without saying another word, leaving Sam dumbstruck in my living room. I slammed the door behind me, heading straight towards my closet.

Oh, I'll show him man enough.

I kicked my Converse off, pulling my GaGa heels out from the back of my shoe rack. I slipped them on, biting my lip to keep from crying out in pain. I don't know what I was smoking when I bought those. I yanked open my bottom dresser drawer, digging through the other miscellaneous costume garments I had in there until I found my corset. I wore it once at the beginning of sophomore year... bad idea. I hadn't touched it since. My shirt was off in a matter of seconds, and I was lacing up the corset, fingers shaking with fury. I marched up the stairs, relishing in every loud clack! of my heels.

"Whoa." Sam's eyes bugged open like a deer in the headlights, and his jaw dropped.

"Got a problem?"

"What? Oh, no," He shook his head. "You look... holy shit."

"Fuck you, Sam," I spat, my feet stinging. He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Now here's the rule - if I have to be in costume, you have to be in costume too."

"Fine." He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the coffee table.

"Pants too."

"What?"

"Do you not see my feet?" I shouted. "I'm wearing prostitute heels. Let's go!"

I was going to make this hell for him. I didn't care if he was gay, like I was now pretty sure he was, or straight as an arrow, but I was going to make him so uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as I was in that outfit. I started the instrumental track on my laptop, pushed Sam back onto the couch, and began.

A weakling weighing ninety-eight pounds

Will get sand in his face when kicked to the ground.

I circled around him slowly, leaning in close to his ear.

And soon in the gym with a determined chin,

Kneeled down next to him, placing two fingers underneath his chin and lifting his head to look at me.

The sweat from his pores as he works for his cause...

Will make him glisten... and gleam

And with massage, and just a little bit of...

I whispered into his ear -

...steam.

I chuckled maliciously. Sam gulped loudly, flushing bright red.

He'll be pink and quite clean

He'll be a strong man.

I ran my hand down his arms, squeezing gently.

Oh honey, but the wrong man.

I stood up, yanking him up with me.

He'll eat nutritious high protein and swallow raw eggs.

I circled around him, running my hands along his shoulders.

Try to build up his shoulders, his chest, arms, and...

I slid my hand down from his navel to the lining of his briefs, then pulled it away.

...legs.

Such an effort if he only knew of my plan.

In just seven days, I can make you a man.

I strut around the couch, then moved to straddle the arm of the couch.

He'll do press-ups, and chin-ups, do the snatch, clean and jerk.

He thinks dynamic tension must be hard work.

I thrust against the arm before standing and pushing Sam down onto the couch again.

Such strenuous living I just don't understand

I climbed on top of him, straddling his lap.

When in just seven days, oh baby...

I leaned in close to his face, my lips inches from his. He looked terrified. I chuckled seductively.

I can make you a man.

The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I smirked, standing up and pretending to dust my hands off.

"A plus," I told him, crossing my arms. "Now go home."

"Huh?"

"We're done here," I said casually, nodding towards the door. "Get dressed and go home."

He looked absolutely dumbfounded as he threw his clothes back on and grabbed his bag. I couldn't help but notice how his pants looked significantly tighter than before. I laughed.

Mission accomplished.