"My parents were famous Nazi hunters, so they weren't around a lot..."

We had pretty ambitious plans for the very first lady Flag Tearer-Downer.

After all, this thought experiment/measure-of-a-man's-character scale did come into existence as a response to namby-pambies of the supposedly "less-fair" sex, not our own. Our treatment of the first woman to tear the Nazi flag off the estancia (if you're still clueless as to our mission statement, or a first-time reader, here is a helpful reminder) would be an important gauge of whether or not we are as gender-blind regarding guts and day-in-day-out heroism as we think we are. We know that there are weak, Emo, female namby-pambies as sure as there are fearless, effortlessly confident and cognizant, modern male Amazons. 21st century dudes aren't all John Mayers, Rod Blagojeviches and Jesse Jameses who crawled out of their box of "Summer's Eve" brand douche to torture us...there are many good lads out there. We know this for a fact. A semi-fact, at least. But we just keep running into the FailBoys: men who - to quote 'Sixteen Going On Seventeen' - are "roués and cads" that apparently just want to write on us. Manly fail. Like this one:

Anyway...

Back to the lady-subject post. History is speckled with examples of lusty courage and true moral compasses - in a "Nazis are ALWAYS bad, no exceptions" kind of way, not a "fire and brimstone and blood of Christ" kind of way - on both sides of the gender aisle. Still, we knew that the first woman we wrote about would have to be special...a Goddess among chiquititas...a latter-day Joan of Arc or Eleanor of Aquitaine...the kind of strong but kind individual we strive to become... she who puts FailBoys and SillyGirls to shame by her mere existence. Being TID's first woman featured would be an honor that had to be earned, dammit!

Then came last Tuesday's Madonna-centric episode of Glee and all plans were tossed off the logic train. Gone and gone, done and done. We HAD to write about a certain awesome cheerleading coach on a certain awesome, fresh gust of zeitgeist TV show that was in hiatus for WAY too long (srsly, Fox, get your shit together).

We'd always planned to do a TID with Sue Mother Fuckin' Sylvester, but we had her tentatively in the "maybe she wouldn't tear it down, after all..." pile. You never know what Sue's going to do. She might get you a kitty cat and then punch you in the face. Or she might just vomit down your back. After all, she does hate sneaky gays, so she's a little bit rotten on the inside. Rotten enough to leave the vile flag flying proudly? Once upon a time, we thought so...

Then - BREAKING NEWS - it was revealed Tuesday that Sue's parents were famous Nazi hunters! Vital information! CLEARLY Sue would have an arsenal of tools to use for defeating Nazis and their flag alike!

Best laid plans of mice and men; man proposes, God disposes; etc, etc, etc...we HAD to write about Sue...stat! Lofty goals shunted aside (saving Elizabeth Rubin, Senator Amy Klobuchar, and Temperance "Bones" Brennan for another day), we broached the question: how would Sue MF Sylvester tear down the flag?

Cailey: Sue and various Glee kids/teachers would be returning from an all-singing, all-dancing homage to The Sound of Music. Maybe the Cheerios sacrifice some of their dry-cleaning money and the McKinley high kids get to go on a junior/senior trip to Austria...or maybe Switzerland. Will and Emma sing "Something Good" to each other under the fresh Alpine sky. Sue gets to belt out "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" while forcing the Cheerios to scale the Matterhorn in their skimpy uniforms and nothing else (builds character). They've all just sung the last note of a mash-up of "My Favorite Things" and "Do-Re-Mi" wherein Sue tunefully describes her love of alpaca wool throw rugs and anal beads in disturbing detail.
Liz: They return to the residence on foot, all dressed in green and white curtain couture, save for Sue MF Sylvester, who is still tracksuit-clad, striding far ahead of the pack and dropping nuggets of wisdom along the way with the help of her megaphone, as the others lag behind.
Cailey: "Never trust a man in houndstooth trousers. He'll call you 'Watson' in the sack and pretend it never happened."
Liz: "If someone offers you a nice, steaming cup of Kopi Luwak, refuse with vehemence. What they are trying to make you drink is coffee from beans that passed through the digestive track of a civet. Most expensive cup of hot shit you'll ever drink."
Cailey: And just as Sue is about to launch into a tale of her mountain climbing exploits - which almost certainly involve leaving her team behind to freeze while she scales K2 on her own ("you think climbing the Matterhorn is hard..."), the flag comes into view!

Liz: Sue has strode far ahead of everyone else, so it's just her facing down the flag.

Cailey: And despite everything we might know and/or suspect about Sue MF Sylvester, there is no doubt that she will tear down the flag. To honor both her Nazi-hunting parents and her beloved, handi-capable sister.

Liz: We learn that, in fact, she has a secret tool belt specifically for this purpose.

Cailey: Hidden under her ubiquitous track suit...that's the reason she wears them, after all.

Liz: For there lies her coveted anti-Nazi arsenal.

Cailey: Including her most beloved possession...

Liz: ...the last of her family's special-recipe napalm. Some families have their own versions of clam chowder or cheesecake. The Sylvester family had its own recipe for napalm. It's a touching reminder of both her youthful (?) hair-bleaching antics, and her parents' dangerous profession.

Cailey: She had been saving the napalm for her funeral - for when her body would be laid on a Viking ship and pushed out to sea near her Boca condo, and her many mourners would light her majestic pyre with this violent family heirloom.

Liz: She fingers the worn leather flask where she keeps said napalm lovingly, tracing the scratches and dents made by her illustrious, deceased parents.
Cailey: She'll be sad to see this tangible reminder of her past go...
Liz: ...but now she knows it is needed IMMEDIATELY. Nazism will not be tolerated. Just like the Glee club, it must be defeated. Like all heroes, she knows who her villains are.
Cailey: Engorged with bile and purpose, she strides forward. Then she hears the peals of childrens' laughter behind her and recalls that she is not alone with the flag.
Liz: She turns and looks at the group of well-dressed (green and white print is flattering on everyone) young'uns and shouts "Stay back! DO NOT take another step forward! This is not a drill."
Cailey: They all espy the flag. They freeze. Will blocks Emma's view so she doesn't have to witness the awful sight.
Liz: Sue says: "You must all turn around RIGHT NOW and let a trained professional handle this delicate situation."
Cailey: And by "trained professional", she means herself.
Liz: Everyone is happy to comply - save Kurt and Mercedes, of course.
Cailey: No way they're letting Sue tackle the flag on her own.
Liz: Little do they know just how much expertise she has re: this particular subject.
Cailey: Sue snarls and addresses Mr. Shue (who remains there, debating whether he should help Sue or go comfort the kids and Miss Pilsbury): "William this is your fault. They probably saw the tub of sauerkraut piled on top of your unworthy head and came to stake their claim. Your hair could have caused an international incident."

 Liz: And with that she shoves him away from the scene.

Cailey: It's just her and the flag.

Liz: With Mercedes and Kurt watching from a safe distance, as designated by Sue.

Cailey: There's no more napalm-stroking now. She whips it out and expertly launches it at the flag.

Liz: Which alights in a majestic blaze!

Cailey: Is this how napalm works?

Liz: Um, for the purposes of this, yes it is. It's the Sylvester family's magic napalm.

Cailey: Works for me. Back to the story: Sue stands there, triumphant, feet firmly planted, arms akimbo.

Liz:"Is that all you've got, you damn Nazis?!" she screams. "Too bad it isn't this easy to take down that poor excuse for a Glee club! But if it were we wouldn't have (at least) nine more seasons left in us!"

Cailey: Sooo meta! Anyway, she rips down the incinerated remains of the flag, stokes the embers and produces several Bratwurst links from her tool belt. She knows that sometimes it takes honey to lure and then kill a fly. And everyone knows that honey is to fly as bratwurst is to Nazi.

Liz: She begins cooking the links over the napalm-and-flag fire, rejoicing in her victory by roasting Germany's national sausage product until it's charred to her liking. The sun sets low in a blaze of autumnal delight, the fire burns strong, Sue's face eerily illuminated by the licks of flame.

Cailey: Then she devours three of the four sausages with the eagerness and lust of one recently returned unscathed from battle.

Liz: She realizes that Kurt and Mercedes are still waiting there, wide-eyed, but still willing to do her bidding. They weren't afraid. They were two extraordinarily brave Glee-ettes.
Cailey: As Sue would say, "Outstanding!"
Liz: She regards the final bratwurst and decides to bestow it upon one of the two as a gift. A sign of her approval.
Cailey: But which of the two?
Liz: The choice is clear in her mind: Kurt needs practice with the sausage (for obvious reasons) and Mercedes doesn't need the extra ounce on her frame.
Cailey: Obviously we disagree with Sue MF Sylvester on this count. Mercedes is fabulous just as she is, gorgeous in fact. But in SUE'S mind, well, no soup for her.
Liz: No bratwurst for her.
Cailey: Indeed.
Liz: So she beckons Kurt over and hands him the bratwurst impaled juicily upon the tines of a very sharp, very old, unpolished silver fork she keeps in her Nazi-tool arsenal.
Cailey: "This fork once punctured the jugular of Josef Mengele's throat. If you lose it, I will rip out your corneas with my toenails."
Liz: Kurt swallows audibly and is about to disappear into the dusky night with the fork and the sausage when Sue issues a despotic order.
Cailey: "Summon my cheerios!"
Liz: The cheerios arrive, like the Death Eaters sensing the return of Lord Voldemort. (OMG, I said his name...)
Cailey: Sue pauses, reaches into the flag ashes, and paints her face with its blackened remains. She is in her element.

Liz: Then she turns to the cheerios, face savage, eyes wild with rage and delight, and screams: "Go out and discover who did this terrible thing! Kick asses and take names! Bring me a nasty Nazi to roast on my pyre of fire!"
Cailey: The cheerios comb the land for days.
Liz: Their quest is unsuccessful.
Cailey: Save for Brittany, who asks her friends the gay sharks (dolphins) where she might find "Not 'Z's"...
Liz: Not too bright that one.
Cailey: And they tell her to buy a box of Alphabits cereal and remove all the 'Z's...then she'll have "Not 'Z's".
Liz: Search less-than-fruitful, Sue packs up her now empty napalm flask and her stab fork and looks out wistfully into the middle distance.
Cailey: The rousing, militaristic drum-tattoo of an old song begins to play.
Liz: And Sue sings her mother's favorite song (below). She would tear up with fierce pride and sadness at the glory of days long past...
Cailey: But as we all know, she had her tear ducts surgically removed.



FIN.