Glee 1. The Meeting

Disclaimer: I don't own GLEE or any of its Characters !  


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_Dear Journal,_

_Words could not express how infuriated I was today when that blasted Figgins suspended me from the school. He will rue the day he crossed **me**, Sue Sylvester. On the other hand, I've got months to plot and put into action a revenge so evil and genius, it will leave that curly haired Michael Buble weeping on the stage of that mediocre auditorium in front of the entire student body, exposing him for what he truly is, a failure. Yes, him and his little club of GLEEKS. I will bring them down, journal. Not now, I've got a meeting…that's lingo for a face to face. Until next time journal. _

_Yours truly, Sue._

_

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_

As I got up from my desk I groaned and stretched wanting to sit right back down, but I did indeed have a meeting. The school board wanted to have a "chat" with me and although I did not want to comply, I simply HAD to. I crept over to my small closet, pulled out a nice brand new Nike Tracksuit, put it on and walked out of my prestigious two-story town house. I looked to my right, saw my neighbor watering his plants, called him a failure and got on my way.

I pulled into the parking lot at the McKinley High Administrative Building at approximately 18:43 pm. I was terribly late, and basking in the ambiance of my tardiness. I slowly opened the door to my car and stepped out, ready to face those chubby school board parents and my administrators. I walked along the pathway until I reached the door. There was an envelope for me. I opened it and read the single white sheet of paper. I could not help but glare and crinkle it up. It was from SCHUESTER, that demonic curly haired cretin! I shredded the paper to bits and left it on the ground, thus acting upon my Pro-Litter stance!

I swung the door open and walked into the administrative building determined to sucker punch someone in the face. Target acquired. There he was. The man that suspended me from the school: FIGGINS! I walked up to him with such celerity that he had no idea what was about to hit him.

"Figgins…" I said.

He turned to me and smiled, "Sue!"

God I cannot stand that accent! If his last name is Figgins, why isn't he fully Americanized yet? Oh, one good punch should fix it right up!

"I'm glad to see you here, Sue, but you're awfully late," he continued.

"Me? Sue? Late? Never! I'm simply here, at a different time than was listed on the paper that YOU gave me," I replied.

He looked at me blankly, took a sip of his punch and continued talking with the other faculty members. I took a deep breath and continued on to the conference room where I would meet the conspirators, the large nobodies who would dictate my future at that school

"Sue, you're awfully late," said Mr. Fitzsimmons at the head of the long table.

"Look, Fitzsimmons, I'm here. So, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" I asked casually to the blank faced citizens before me. "What?" I asked. They shook their heads as I rolled my eyes and took my seat.

"Well, Sue let," managed Fitzimmons before I interrupted him.

"I'd like some water. I'm terribly dehydrated, and since you're about to grill me, I'd really appreciate it," I said, legs now on the table. He looked at me and I just widened my eyes and glared.

"Well, it's at the center of the table," he said.

"I know where it is, Fitzsimmons," I joked. "I'm not blind. Now, I'd like some water. Why don't you get me a glass, Karen," I said to the short woman sitting closest to me. Out of fear, she complied and set the glass down next to me. "Thanks, you're a doll. Now you may continue telling me how 'unfit' and 'irresponsible' I am as an award winning coach and decorated teacher," I said.

Fitzsimmons and the rest of the board just looked at me before Karen spoke up.

"Well, Sue…I'm afraid that you're a terrible role model for our children," she said nervously.

"Look, Kathy," I managed.

"It's Karen."

"Like I care. I'd like you to give me a SINGLE example in which I am not portrayed as an elegant, loving, teacher," I said, knowing she could not respond.

"Well, I can list several," she stuttered.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Well, September 26, 2009,"

"I BEG YOUR PARDON! How dare you question my capability to teach the youth of America! You know what, Cynthia? These children NEED me! They NEED Sue Sylvester to cane some sense into them. You cannot blame me for what they do after having a class with me? My words simply permeate their thin skulls. I am in no way responsible if a student, I don't know, breaks into Will Schuester's house and…hits him with a crow bar until he dies. Look, although your concern is duly noted, Kayla, I simply cannot see where you could implicate me," I said.

"Sue, listen to yourself…"

"What makes you think I don't? I've got thousands of motivational cassette tapes lying on my dresser at home. I listen to them as I lift dumbbells. I'm the only person that can motivate me, Kathleen. Are we done here?" I asked, eager to leave and go home.

"I guess so, Sue. BUT, you are suspended for the next month, so find something to do. You are not permitted on the grounds of any of the district buildings, got it?" Fitzimmons asked.

I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Peace."

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A/N: I hope you guys like it! It is rather difficult writing in the perspective of Sue Sylvester, and I hope I did her justice!


	2. Penelope, Brittany, and I

Diclaimer: I do not own GLEE or any of its characters.  


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_Dear Journal,_

_I've decided to skip my tanning trip down in Boca and focus on my plot. It's quite ingenious, actually. The plan consists of thirteen steps. Each step representing a person I must bring down in order to destroy the club; one for each of the GLEEKs and the last for Schuester. Edith and Figgins don't really count, as I cannot bring them down. Oh, it's marvelous, Journal! Just marvelous! That's beside the point now. The meeting yesterday went swimmingly. God how I wish I could've punched Fitzsimmons right in the nose. And that Karen had the AUDACITY to tell me that I'm a bad role model for her children? First of all Journal, her daughter is a first class whore and her son, the worst kid on the Swim Team. Why does she think they're good? She'll probably blame me for Global Warming as well, Journal. Sometimes, Jorunal, I feel that you are the only one who really understands me. You know all of my secrets, all of my favorite foods, and other miscellaneous things about me. Why? Well, I guess it's because you care so much Journal. Oh! I've got to go water Penelope and then feed her some flies! Until tomorrow, I bid thee farewell. Love ya like a sistah. Sue. _

It was Tuesday. It was only day one of my month long suspension, and I already knew what I was going to do. I was going to begin enacting my devious plot, but I must not forget to water Penelope. Therefore, I got up from my desk, walked over to the darkest part of my town house, my closet, and looked at my beautiful Penelope, my Venus flytrap. I see so much of myself in her. We are both beautiful. We are both carnivorous. We both hate curly haired insects. Ah, me. Could she be any more beautiful? No.

I fetched the water pail, gave her a light drizzle and set it back down next to her. It was then time to feed her. I pulled a Ziploc bag out of a nearby drawer. It was full to the top with flies, dead flies. I slowly opened the bag and put some in her mouth. We had that mother-daughter type of connection. She gobbled those flies up and, in a way, thanked me. I blew her a kiss, grabbed a new tracksuit, green in color, and left her in her anonymity.

I slowly descended my stairs and looked at my living area. On the table were cheerleading magazines galore. A large, plasma screen television blaring Fox News sat in the corner. Glenn Beck was on. Sometimes I sit on my couch and think about punching him in the face.

Once I reached the foot of the stairs, I noticed my mail slot open up and a few chubby fingers pushing some papers through.

"Thanks, failure," I said accepting the pile of bills and notices. I simply took a step into my living area and shredded them. Why notify me by killing trees? I heard the mail carrier grumble something in response but I knew that if it was important enough for me to hear, it would have been said louder.

My cuckoo clock then told me it was 12:00 and time to go. Go where? I had nowhere to go. I was left to bask in my glory at home. NO! I was going to go to McKinley. Nevertheless, I needed a disguise. I would start my plan today.

William McKinley never disgusted me more than it did now. I looked at the school and had the sudden urge to vomit on a student. Heck, I would do that anyway. The student body here is so vile and repulsive that I don't even know how I made it this far before getting a suspension. Aha! Target acquired. Silent Matt. How did he even get into that GLEE club? Blast! Santana would see right through my disguise of a hooded sweatshirt and awkwardly shaped sunglasses. I cannot let her see me.

"I wonder who will coach us now that Sue's been suspended," I heard her say as I strutted by.

"What? She was suspended?" I heard Brittany ask, to which Santana rolled her eyes and walked away with silent boy.

"Brittany! Psst! Brittany!" I whispered.

"God?" she asked, looking around moronically.

I rolled my eyes and looked at her. "Yes. It is me, God," I responded.

"Oh my God – I mean, oh my. What do you want? Has my time come?" she asked. Students passed by and watched as she had a conversation with herself.

"No, no, I just need you to walk over to the wom-person to your right and have a chat with her," I said ingeniously.

"Oh, okay!" she replied, happy go lucky. She turned to her left and looked around, "God, there's no one here."

"Idiot! Over here!" I loudly whispered.

Startled, she turned around, saw me, and slowly walked up to me. "Hi. Are you the one God told me to talk to?" she asked.

I nodded and looked at her, "Brittany, it's me…Coach Sylvester."

"Oh my God – I mean, oh my…you sound a lot like God. I would know he and I just had a conversation."

"Noooo, you were just talking to me, okay? Now listen to me. I need your help," I said.

"Wait, I don't get it…so you're God?"

"No. Listen, you imbecile! I need your assistance!"

"Ok…" she said blankly as I began to tell her my ingenious plan. She nodded a few times so I thought she understood, but there was not a moment that I began to doubt her capabilities. Is she a first class bimbo? You bet, but she is a trooper. She looked at me, smiled and walked away.

"Pawn to silent Pawn 4. Phase One: Complete."

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A/N: So, Chapter 2 is here and I hope it did Sue some more Justice! More to come!


	3. Getting Physical at the Mall

_Dear Journal,_

_Yesterday turned out to be somewhat of a success. After my covert meeting with Brittany, I was able to get some files from my office. These files were mainly more cheer magazines and my blender cup. Oh, Journal! It will work! Today I will begin Phase Two of Step One of My Thirteen Step Plan to rid McKinley, albeit a school honoring a failed President, from the ridicule GLEE has brought it! And with that, SCHUESTER! Oh, every single time I write his name in you Journal, I cringe. That's why ink seeps through your pages as soon as I write his name! I'm sorry about that, Journal. I know you deserve better. Heck, I deserve better, Journal. I…deserve…better. Well Journal, it's time for Phase Two to begin. First, I'll be off to pick up some croissants from the bakery, then to William McKinley to enact my revenge! Love you, Sue. _

I looked up from my desk shortly thereafter and thought to myself how difficult today would be. To make sure Step One even had a chance to work I would need blueprints and schematics of William McKinley High, the shrine dedicated to a failed President. Personally, I would dedicate a learning facility to a one Theodore Roosevelt. That man knew how to carry a big stick. I'm digressing now. Blueprints are what I need and what I am going to get. I picked up the telephone that sat on my desk and dialed a number.

"Bird's Blueprints?" I asked.

The man on the other end did not speak but presumably nodded. I widened my eyes and waited for another moment before speaking again.

"Excuse me? Bird's Blueprints? Yes or no?"

"Yes," the man said squeamishly.

"Excellent. I need the blueprints to William McKinley High and I need them ASAP."

"I understand. I can get them to you within the hour."

"Thanks, failure," I replied before hanging up the phone on that insecure man.

As I set the phone down on my desk, I smiled. My plan was about to begin. It had never really come to fruition, but now it was all so real. This was it. Step One of my Thirteen Step plan to rid the world, or William McKinley of Will Schuester would finally commence! I jogged to my closet, looked in it and frowned.

"I need a disguise," I said to myself.

I thought for a mere moment before leaving my town home and entering my vehicle. I was going shopping. I had three hours before GLEE club practice began and I needed a disguise and the blueprints. I pulled out of my designated parking spot, stuck my tongue out at my neighbor, prestigiously of course, and drove off.

The only accessible shopping mall in the area was what I called the Fatty Maker. I believe that any building with escalators and elevators stunted physical activity. I parked in the almost empty parking lot and entered the mall. I immediately passed the Nike store, knowing I would not be able to get anything from it. I needed a legitimate disguise. Something no one would be able to recognize me in. There it was. New York and Company. I would get something chic and trendy. Something Preggo would wear.

"Hello, welcome to New York and Company," the woman at the counter said.

I looked at her, scoffed and continued past her. I saw out of the corner of my eye, her look at me with nothing but disgust.

"If I needed your help, I would ask for it. Don't you CONFRONT me, okay? I'll holla for ya later sistah," I replied.

She froze and just looked at me before turning to a coworker.

"That's what I thought," I said, beginning my hunt.

I looked at all of the various pieces of clothing and almost vomited. Is this what young women wear nowadays? Is this what _I, SUE SYLVESTER, _would have to resort to? I couldn't believe it.

As I looked around the many racks, I thought "What would make me look so different…so…so…new?" and then I saw it. It was on a mannequin, of course; a light brown pantsuit with some kind of teal blouse. I chuckled and walked on over.

"Hey! How much for this piece of crap," I shouted at the annoying employee.

I could tell immediately that she wasn't happy I had called, but I knew she wouldn't mind helping me. As she walked over I began scrutinizing her like she was a crime scene. She had one freckle on her cheek that made her look 1/16th ginger and the rest…it was just a mess.

"Ginger, how much," I asked, again.

"Umm…sixty dollars for everything…and the shoes will cost you extra, but I don't think any of our shoes…or clothes will fit you, I'm afraid," she mumbled.

I scoffed, "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh…oh…oh, I didn't mean it that way!"

"Oh, I know how you meant it! You think you can come in here and work minimum wage and treat your customers like CRAP? I should report you, but I won't, because I like you ginger, and I know you can help me. Find this in my size," I said handing her a post-it with my measurements. "I will pick it up and pay for it in an hour. If you have to order it, do so," I said sternly. I then shoved her out of my way and proceeded further into the "mall."

I now needed a wig. I couldn't just waltz back in with my infamous hair. I whipped out my old Verizon mobile phone and dialed a number I never thought I'd dial again.

"Winona's Wig Emporium?"

"Yes, this is Winona speaking. How can I help YOU, and your HAIR?"

"Still makes me cringe, Winona. Anyway, I need a wig. Say, long brown wavy hair, one hour?"

"Sue? Is that you?"

"What's it to ya? I need the wig and I'll pick it up within the hour."

"Oh…okay. I just didn't think I'd hear from you…"

"Yeah…you didn't think, just like you didn't think your whole life?"

I hung up after that, having nothing else to say to her. Now that I had ordered everything, I needed to kill time. I left the overcrowded mall, reminiscent of my days in Beijing, and entered my Toyota. Everyone was returning theirs, but not me, Sue Sylvester. Who cares if the brakes don't work? I'll love. I'm a gladiator for crying out loud.

As I backed out of the crowded parking lot I accidentally bumped into a car setting off its alarm. Not only did I not care, I smiled and went on my way. Bird's blueprints was a good 10 minute drive and I needed to get there, fast. It was then, after I turned on my radio, that I heard the most heavenly of words: "Up next, Olivia Newton-John's _Let's Get Physical_." Not only was this my favorite song, it was the world's favorite song. Who didn't have a workout video dedicated to this musical wonder? Well, not Sue Sylvester. I, for one, had my own music video stashed in the confines of my MacBook. It's not something I'd share with anyone, but I still enjoy it. And now it's beginning!

_I'm saying all the things that I know you'll like  
Making good conversation  
I gotta handle you just right  
You know what I mean  
I took you to an intimate restaurant  
Then to a suggestive movie  
There's nothing left to talk about  
Unless it's horizontally_

Let's get physical, physical  
I wanna get physical  
Let's get into physical  
Let me hear your body talk, your body talk  
Let me hear your body talk

I've been patient, I've been good  
Tried to keep my hands on the table  
It's gettin' hard this holdin' back  
If you know what I mean

I'm sure you'll understand my point of view  
We know each other mentally  
You gotta know that you're bringin' out  
The animal in me

Let's get physical, physical  
I wanna get physical  
Let's get into physical  
Let me hear your body talk, your body talk  
Let me hear your body talk

Let's get physical, physical  
I wanna get physical  
Let's get into physical  
Let me hear your body talk, your body talk  
Let me hear your body talk

Let's get physical, physical  
I wanna get physical  
Let's get into physical  
Let me hear your body talk, your body talk  
Let me hear your body talk

Let's get animal, animal  
I wanna get animal  
Let's get into animal  
Let me hear your body talk  
Let me hear your body talk

Oh! How wonderful! I knew then that I wouldn't even contemplate listening to the next song because it would pale in comparison! It didn't matter, I'd arrived. I parked in the only free spot out of Bird's Blueprints and stormed out of my car. I swung open the door of his shop and barged up to his desk. I pounded on the little bell awaiting his arrival.

"Hmph….just as I thought. He's a scrawny little man with glasses…a little pudgy too."

"Uh…I can hear you?"

"You were meant to squeaky voice. Now do you have my blueprints?"

"Uh…McKinley High?"

"That's the one."

"Yeah…no…I don't have them m'am."

My eyes widened. I was enraged.

"What do you mean, YOU DON'T HAVE THEM?"

"I…I…I couldn't get them?"

"UGH."

"I can get them for you…but it might take some time…"

"Save it and go back to Java you Rhinoceros!"

I left his store, blueprint-less, but not before I had wreaked some damage, leaving the fat elf in tears. It was time for PLAN B.


	4. PLAN B

A/N: I'm aware how short it is, but I am leaving for China soon so I didn't want to leave you hanging until July! So enjoy this and POSSIBLY one more chapter before I leave (mid June)!

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN GLEE OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS (ESPECIALLY SUE).

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_Dear Journal,_

_** INFURIATED!** I was infuriated! That diminutive demon had the audacity that he could "get them for me?" Who does he think he is, journal? Who, exactly? George W. Bush, the failed president? Sure, he got away with some things, but no…not this elf of a human. He's probably one of Shuester's MANY cohorts, journal. This has exacerbated my plan. I can no longer trust anyone…but Amelda, maybe. She's been loyal, wouldn't you say so? Oh, I digress… _

_ I ask you, journal, what is the point of phoning in and asking for something and then when you arrive to pick it up…what…nothing? I have a mobile phone, journal. I have "text messaging." I can browse the web-well, it's not quite a smart phone…but it flips. _

_ Journal, I must admit that I have now reached a dead end. So now the wig will have to come in to play. You see, that was Plan B. I will remove that bug-eyed Ellen from her office and take over as some sort of temp guidance counselor. Besides, I'd give better advice to those kids under the influence than she ever would. But, that will take time. I must adjust some of my mannerisms and my voice and I will have to…have to…apply cosmetics to my flawless skin! Oh, Journal! Tonight is a night in which we shall lament together! _

_ Good night and much love,_

_ Sue_


	5. Meet Sue, I mean Susan Smith

**A/N: Another installment of my Sue story - sorry for the REALLY LONG WAIT (to those of you who really liked it). More to come soon :) (sorry if I lost my edge, it'll come back)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own GLEE or any of its characters**

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_I've done it Journal. After a day's worth of phone calls and a favor from the district judge, the ginger bush baby is on jury duty, and who did they call to fill in for her? That's right journal, ME – or should I say, Susan Smith PhD. The day of reckoning is upon us! Oh, journal, I have not felt so alive in the longest time! I'm about to end Will Schuester and his club of sexually promiscuous Ewoks! Oh journal, it was a mere 29 years ago that I was born into this world. Never once did I get what I wanted, never once did I get accolades, and now, look at me! I'm going to get it all! Well, it's time to get into costume journal!_

_ Love, Forever and Always,_

_ Sue Sylvester_

_P.S. You should know, journal, that Taylor Swift stole that from me. I've contacted my lawyer, but it'll be a while._

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I slowly retreated from my desk, toward my closet. I quickly grabbed the wig and adjusted it onto my head. I had one thing to wear, and one thing only – an old gray pantsuit. I put it on, shuddering as I did so, knowing I was giving up a part of my being – albeit a small sacrifice for a great cause. I then proceeded to my bathroom, ready to apply the cosmetics and jewelry that my maid prepared.

"Senora Sylvester, I put a the make-up on a the uh counter, uh. Si," she said, leaving the bathroom.

"It's Senorita," I told her before entering.

"You look good," she said in that accent of hers. I nodded and signaled her away.

Then I saw her, Aphrodite, looking at me from the mirror. She gently touched her face as I touched mine, her lips as I touched my lips. We were one in the same, she and I. This beauty, I never thought it could be so powerful.

With my newfound confidence, I rushed out of my home and hopped into my new rental, a Toyota Prius. This plot had to be believable, so I could no longer drive my gas-guzzler. I smiled at my excuse for a neighbor for once and drove off. I saw him pick his nose through my rearview mirror, typical typical fat man.

I arrived at William McKinley a few minutes before the start of the day. I maneuvered my way through the hallways until I reached my second least favorite room – Figgins' office. It used to be in first place until the Choir room was given to Schuester. The immigrant welcomed me into his office with open arms, literally – he embraced me for the worst 30 seconds of my life. He then offered me some tea, I declined, and he told me my duties.

"And at no point can you insult the children or break the confidentiality agreement. We have a teacher here, she was suspended, that would do just that. It's been so great without her." His accent made it hard for me to understand him, but I smiled and nodded, but then he said it: "You looks so familiar, have we met before?"

I froze, and then I stuttered, "No…uh, no, not unless you went to Ohio State," I joked.

He stared at me, I thought he would not fall for it, but then he smiled. Just like a mouse caught in a mouse trap…I caught him. He showed me to my office, or should I say headquarters, for the next week, and I started with some easy paperwork.

It wasn't until lunch time that I faced my first real dilemma – a student walked into the office. What's worse, it was that creepy ginger perm she-male, Jacob Ben Israel.

"Oh, uh…you aren't Ms. Pillsbury. Um, do you know when she'll be back," he asked, looking rather quizzical and perverted at the same time.

"In about a week, ginger," I said coldly. He frowned and sauntered out of the office as I quickly took out my journal.

_Dear Journal,_

_ This first day is awful! I'm making so many gaffes, it's not good! It won't be long before they discover that this Aphrodite is not Susan Smith PhD, but Sue Sylvester, award winning cheerleading coach and political figure. Oh, Journal, I have to figure something out. _

_ Until tomorrow,_

_ Sue

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**A/N: The next (two to three) chapters will continue the role of Sue as Susan and it will explore her interacting with various GLEE clubbers. **_  
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Glee, Humor