cassondra blake has lived in lima, ohio her entire life, that doesn't justify her actions but it's a got supporting factor. the dullness, the toxicity, the rough cut edges of lima heights has tampered her once vibrant personality.
one day she get...
"it was written for diana ross," mercedes argued with rachel.
rachel shook her head at mercedes, wagging her finger as well, "no, mercedes, you are wrong, okay? the bodyguard was originally written for barbra streisand."
mr. schue came into the choir room, hearing the pair's loud argument, "actually, rachel, it was supposed to be diana ross and steve mcqueen, back in the '70s."
"thank you, mr. schue," mercedes snips, looking smugly at the arrogant jew beside her.
"i've been doing some research to prepare for this week's lesson."
kurt and mercedes gasp together, taking each other's hands, "oh, my god, yes. it's about time we did a whitney tribute!"
logan slowly raised his hand, "are we sure that's appropriate?"
mercedes whipped her head around to face the junior that holds her heart, deeply offended by him questioning her idol, "you did not just ask that."
sam's eyes widened, hitting his friend's shoulder, "abort, abort."
"abandon hope ye who enter here," cass warned, knowing that this was not going to end well.
logan gave his sister an unamused look, defending himself, "i just mean, didn't whitney kind of have a lot of problems?"
"she had a hard life, logan. and?" mercedes snapped at the brunette, slightly scaring him.
mr. schue called a cease fire between the two of them, "look, this week isn't about passing judgment on whitney. it's about celebrating her legacy, honoring her memory, her accomplishments."
"which i will happily list for you," rachel squealed, beginning to rattle of some accomplishments before mr. schue calls her off.
"but i also want you guys to use her songs to get underneath your own feelings. to express and explore what's really going on with you."
sam frowned at their teacher, confused, "i don't get it, mr. schue. what's really going on with us?"
"well, for most of you, these next few weeks will be your last here at mckinley. lots of changes coming up, lots of saying good-bye. to your friends, to your significant others, to the last four years of your life. for a young person, all that transition can be overwhelming. so it's easier to focus on other things. like not being able to say good-bye to whitney houston."
"what are you talking about?" santana snipped, feeling attacked.
"santana, it's okay. i get it. you're hanging on to whitney because it's difficult to handle the upheaval in your own lives."
santana shook her head, scowling at the teacher, "we're hanging on to whitney because she was incredible and we love her, so don't put your baggage on us."
"you guys, mr. schue's attempt to understand us, though misguided, doesn't matter. what matters is that i start rehearsing whitney's version of "the star-spangled banner" immediately. it is the mount everest of anthems," rachel announces at the bell.
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