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And now for something completely different. And stupid. And horrible. And late. But finally, donnnnne.

14 Reasons I Love You

7. Your first valentine deserves to be sappy and/or mocking. I'm going to go for...both.

"You are all cordially invited, except for William, to the wedding of one groom, Sue Sylvester, to one bride, Sue. Sue will be taking Sue Sylvester's name, and this ceremony will be officiated by Reverend Sue Sylvester herself. That's right, Reverend Sue Sylvester is coming out of a million-dollar pension retirement, just for this special occasion. There will be food, wine, dancing, leather, and music of the proper kind, instead of that caterwauling that the Glee club boasts."

"Sue?" Will said, staring at his invitation. "If you weren't going to invite me, why did you hand me an invitation?"

"Oh William," Sue said. "I wanted you to see the glory of my wedding day, but be completely unable to attend because the ushers, Sue Sylvester, will block you at the door. And if you should insist on entering, Sue will douse you with boiling oil, to conduct an experiment on how much oil your hair can absorb."

Will grit his teeth.

"And now, I must be going. I have to arrange a meeting with a wedding planner. Sue Sylvester can't do this all herself, after all. That's what blackmailed planners are for."

"Ah, Sue," Sue Sylvester said, caressing her counterpart. "I am so glad to be able to finally join us together in holy matrimony."

"Ah...Coach Sylvester?"

"Yes, sandbags?"

"Why are you feeling yourself up in the corridor?"

Sue jerked her head up and dropped her arms. "Why, sandbags, I was checking to see if my breasts were still real, or if the sillicon in your hooters decided to spread, like a contagious yeast disease."

The girl gave her a venomous look that was nowhere near as effective as her mother's, although it was a very good attempt. Sue Sylvester marked that off as a 1.5/10, because even her mother only ranked a 4/10. Sue Sylvester had taken poisonous glares and turned them into an art form, and then patented them. Patent #3138980, as a matter of fact. Her poisonous glares, especially Glare #31, which caused a zombie apocalypse, or #14, which could start wars in otherwise peaceful countries, were amusing but dangerous to use, because if Sue Sylvester ran out of handy puppets, otherwise known as humans, she might actually have to do menial work.

Horrible thought. It made her shake in her tracksuit...if Sue Sylvester was anatomically capable of shaking, which in fact, she was not.

Oh yes, Sue Sylvester remembered turning #15 toward Eastern Europe. Those poncy Eastern Europeans should know better than to cross her. How dare they charge her for a plumbing service they should be performing free of charge? Sue Sylvester let them into America by not opposing their movements.

"Holy shit, I think the usher is real," Finn murmured in a whisper, holding up his invitation so that Sue Sylvester could take it, stamp it with his attendance, and then physically rip it apart, set it on FIRE, AND JAM IT UP WILL SCHUESTER'S VOODOO DOLL'S ASS.

"Is the usher...some kind of doll? A body pillow?" Artie asked, and cringed as Tina looked over at him and narrowed her eyes. A moment later, she looked away again with a puff.

"Is a body pillow a pillow you put your body on?"

"...Yes," Artie said, his eyes darting around desperately for some sort of rescue.

"Oh! I should buy one then. My body aches sometimes after Coach Sylvester makes us practice."

The Sue Sylvester automaton finished ripping up Artie's and Brittany's beautifully embossed invitations. The Will Schuester voodoo doll began to look uncomfortable.

"Yes, uh...yeah," Artie said, desperately eyeing his girlfriend to look away from the horrible, horrible sight. "C'mon, let's get to our seats. The sooner we finish this, the sooner we eat. I'm hungry," he said, rubbing his stomach.

Brittany pushed him to his place, settling down beside him.

The automaton of Sue Sylvester, dressed in a suit and tie, addressed the congregation. Most of them were staring at the uncannily life-like robot/android/person, who looked down, pushed up golden reading glasses, and opened her book.

Sue Sylvester, dressed in a truly handsome suit, stood at the altar.

"Wait..." Finn said, in an undertone. "If Coach Sylvester's here, then who's the bride?"

Rachel patted his hand, but kept mum.

"I don't get this," Puck muttered. "The whole world's gone insane." He darted a look over at the bench, where Kurt had gotten 'invited', and brought his boyfriend along with him. Puck groaned and covered his eyes. Little Dude had brought his boyfriend back. "The whole world..."

The familiar tune of the Wedding March started up, in its original German, the German choir's voices soaring.

Sue Sylvester turned and squarely faced Brittany, a malignant anticipation in her eyes. Brittany paled, the blood draining from her face, and grasped Artie's hand so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Would the congregation stand for the entry of the bride."

As one, the rather large crowd rose to their feet and gaped at Sue Sylvester, walking in with her mother.

Sue Sylvester, at the altar, beamed as Sue Sylvester approached.

The glee club's jaws dropped, collectively, as Sue Sylvester lifted her hand and Sue Sylvester delicately put her hand into Sue Sylvester's hand.

"We are gathered here today," the priest began, flipping the pages as she looked up and fixed the congregation with her steady stare. "-To celebrate the joining in holy matrimony of Sue Sylvester and Sue."

"And do you, Sue Sylvester, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do, with all my heart."

"And do you, Sue, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Sue Sylvester, you may now kiss yourself."

"Brain. Damage."

"...Over nine thousand."

"While Sue and Sue retire to their penthouse for their wedding night and subsequent honeymoon, please enjoy the food."

The guests stared up in shock, awe, and horror.

"The world has two Coach Sylvesters?" Quinn said. "We're all going to die. I want to see my baby at least once before I die..."

"Commemorative CDs of the soundtrack of Sue's wedding will be given out to all wedding attendees, personally mixed."

Blaine took the CD from the automaton, shot an eye toward Kurt, and tucked it into his blazer jacket.

"C'mon, Blaine," Kurt said, who hadn't seen it, or at the very least, hadn't guessed Blaine's nefarious plot for the music, took Blaine's hand in his. "Let's go dancing."

"I'm going to let you know now, Sue Sylvester," the man in tweed and a fez said, thrusting his finger out at her. "Your time-travelling has caused a great deal of trouble for me, and this is absolutely the last time that you will do such a thing."

"No thanks to you, Doctor," Sue Sylvester said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a blushing bride to attend to."

The Doctor's complexion approached a very familiar green. He marched off inside the wedding reception, though it approximated a stagger rather than a true march.

Sue turned to Sue. "In light of missing equipment, I have procured...certain items."

"Of course you have," Sue said. "I could not expect any less from a person such as Sue Sylvester."

"Let's do the little death dance, then."

"Mm-hm."

Sam prodded one of the AV Club members. They keeled over, stiff as a corpse.

"You guys were the ones controlling the Sue Sylvester dolls, right?" he said. "What would make you do such a thing?"

"We have seen horrors," one of the AV Club members intoned, slightly more coherent than the rest. "Horrors beyond imagination."

"Yeast..." one of the younger boys murmured, before they vanished into the ethers of unreality, their tongues speaking a multitude of gibberish languages.

"Blood..." another said.

"Time," yet another.

"Time, pushed in and pulled out repeatedly, until it vomited minutes and seconds onto our unwary selves," the coherent guy said. Tears began to leak out of the corners of his eyes. "Please, do us the honor of severing our connection from this world."

"No!" one of the guys at the back yelled, the blank expression on his face still present. "Do not! Or we will spend the rest of eternity with those horrors that Sue Sylvester called, face-to-face."

"Face-to-yeast..."

"Cthulthu ftnag."

"Even the eldritch could not comprehend the horrors we face now."

"...okay," Sam said. "That's just...that's just creepy."

"Hey, dude," Puck said to the guy in tweed and a fez that stormed in, looking like he was about to cry in disgust and horror. At the moment he felt kind of the same, so the sympathy was pretty strong about now. "You look like you need a drink."

Puck pulled out a flask of the alcohol he'd smuggled in and passed it to the guy. "Kurt," he called, "This dude needs some of your chocolate."

Kurt froze from emptying the European chocolate dish into his sling-bag, and watched the man. He winced, wandered over, and handed a chocolate bar to him. "You need some of this, too?"

"You're both very nice boys," the Doctor wibbled, and took them. "I'll be keeping my eyes on you."

Sue Sylvester lay in bed with Sue Sylvester, thoroughly satisfied.

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