But I hadn't written in AAAGGGEEESSS, so I just thought i'd post a piece of ... trash stuff.
(By the way, I don't read much FanFic, but I was bored one night, so looked up Glee - my new obsession - and some of it was VERY freaky, quite disturbing stuff. So don't take this as ... i don't know ... proper intellectual writing. I wanted to do it "freakily")
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Sectionals was amazing. So much better than the Invitational, I mean, we didn't have to wear cowboy costumes for one – which is a clear-cut no-go fashion statement. Unless it's in the Autumn and Shania Twain has released a new album, which is a definite must for fashionistas like me.
But yes, Sectionals. Aah, what I wouldn't give to skip the next few months and do it all again at Regionals. There is one thing that's bugs me, I suppose. Why does Rachel always get the solos? Sure, she's a woman and I don't think the audience would especially want a gay showmance between me and Finn (but I know I would). Other than that, why not?
That's when I decided to do something about Regionals. I went to speak to Mr Schue about having a solo – something I could perform with style, class and hopefully with a little bit of attitude. I proposed a rendition of “Material Girl” by Madonna. Predictably, he approved my solo but rejected my song choice. You can tell Mr Schue doesn't have the feminity needed to be the producer of a show choir. Which then gave me my second plan.
My Ryerson.
He's always had a soft spot for me, I don't really know why. I can remember during rehearsals for the mash-ups when I found myself … a little over-excited …. when I had to choreograph some pelvic thrusts for the guys. Mr Ryerson, or Sandy how he preferred me to call him, took me into his room and sat me down in his office.
“You have to see, Hummel, that with adolescence comes sexuality.” He handed me his flask with a meaningful look. “Now, I understand that you have been having trouble with keeping yourself in … touch … with … yourself … whilst singing lately.
I mean, who blames ya? When I was your age, even we had our musical distractions. Elvis … Bob Marley … even Popeye to some extent. Nowadays, with all the booty shaking and the …. shirt-ripping.”
I found myself trying to focus on the photographs of Josh Groban on his desk, he was nicer to look at, as opposed to Mr Ryerson's face as he daydreamed of, most probably, Popeye giving him a lapdance.
“Baby, get shakey …. after school … er .. yes. Hummell.”
I handed him back his untouched flask, and he gave me a yet another meaningful look.
“Now, I can help you out here. We don't want you to be learning more body-popping in front of that Finn Hudson, and then … well … you know what happens next. I know I do.
Now sing me a note. Any note”
Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and sang a little off-key B flat.
“That's nice. That's very nice. Keep going until I say stop”
He sat back down and left me singing this note. And that's when I learnt my advantage. I realised it when he took off his shawl and place it on his lap with his cane, as he watched my perfectly formed “O” shaped mouth.
I was going to seduce him. Yep, I was going to seduce Mr Ryerson. A little bit of “Single Ladies” and he was my clay to mould.
I don't want to go in any more details - all I have to say is that with a little bit of home-cooking, a salt-shaker and a collection of High School Musical merchandise, and Mr Ryerson had appealed to Mr Schue to let me perform “Material Girl”.
It worked like a charm. My next project – Noah Puckerman.
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