"Where am I??" You shout, but you doubt anyone will hear you. You're staring up at a gang of young men, all resembling the glee club you were introduced to the other day but appearing much more ominous and distorted in their huge dimensions.
"What are we gonna do with him in the long run? He can't live in your shoe forever?" Blaine says, making such a horrific premise seem almost reasonable with his even voice and compassionate eyes.
"That's why I plan on breaking out some extra badass dance moves during practice today." Puck grins mischievously. "See if the little fucker lasts more than a minute under my heel with me stomping down on his attention-grabbing little head."
The sneaker's insole beneath you smells like rotten garbage. Or, more accurately, Puck's feet. You can't believe this group of giant teens are actually conspiring to crush you under a bully's stinking foot, just because you made a bad impression during your audition and pissed them off.
"That doesn't seem fair, I think we should get it over with quicker. Make it less painful for the little runt." Sam says, his arms folded. The blond colossus glances at you with worried eyes, but he seems resistant to pity. Clearly he too sees you as a menace to be stomped out as quickly and conveniently as possible.
"Well, we'd better think of something quickly." Kurt whispers in an urgent voice. "Mr Schue is right around the corner!"
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