Jumping right in, with no further ado:
Due to a fateful encounter with a magical booby trap in Sue’s office fridge, Will finds all the women he ever kissed demanding song and dance numbers from him… some of them at gunpoint. Being a slut (slut slut slut…) and all, he is in serious danger of death by exhaustion, unless the kids can find out how to reverse the curse. Featuring the return of April Rhodes with a smashing rendition of “Hey, Big Spender.”
There would be fewer Eighties Classics and more Nineties emo rock. The kids would definitely have performed songs by Garbage (possibly “Bleed like Me“) and Four Star Mary.
A short distance from the William McKinley High School there would be a stunningly cool, entirely licensed, but nevertheless open to teens bar, the Gold, where the Solid Gold dancers and the cast of original Fame would rhythmically stalk the night, mysteriously immortal and thriving by sucking the talent out of unsuspecting performers.
Upon failing to get a decent solo–again!–Mercedes would work a spell to increase her already mighty musical moxie. When the spell turns on her, rats, small children and of course Britney, end up chasing her through Lima as she sings a nonstop rendition of Whitney Houston’s “I will always love You,” until finally the team finds and destroys the mystic music box where the spell resides. Will learns an important lesson.
Arty would receive the gift of real working legs from Santa Claus. Oh, sure, they would be scaly demon legs. You win some, you lose some, right? With them, he can dance the macarena, polka with ease and perform the rare but always fatal flying crane with a machete toe strike from Karate Kid 2012: The Slithering. In fact, the demonic claws puncture anything they touch, nixing his dream of becoming the football team’s new star kicker.
After a particularly memorable grapefruit and horseradish slushy pairing, Rachel turns to ex-boyfriend and all-demon Jesse for advice. Wacky hijinx ensue when he urges her to steal Dave Karofsky’s football pads for use in a vengeance spell. Jesse turns the pads into a giant rampaging Korofsky, who chases pretty young men through the town until the cheerleading squad forms a pyramid, topped by Kurt, that lures him into the meat packing plant and an inevitable but splashy end. Everyone agrees that this was neither helpful nor productive. Rachel sings a current pop song I’ve never heard of, one that truly captures her spirit of penitence and desire for redemption. She nevertheless fails to retain an important lesson.
We would live in constant fear of the sudden death of any likable or harmless character, especially if their romantic partner had just forgiven them for bad behavior.
Acting as the pawn of the mysterious media mogul who runs the local news station, Rod Remington hires Santana to appear in a TV commercial for a new exercise device, the Supple-izer. The Glee club girls are riven by jealousy over her stardom. But the commercial is enchanted, and causes the William McKinley High School staff to engage in an endless series of Supple-enhancing poses. The kids have to steal the enchanted video camera used to make the commercial, so that Santana can film and air a rendition of “Good Morning Baltimore” to snap the adults of Lima out of the trance. The plan nearly founders when she balks at singing a song expressly written for a fat girl.
Puck and Sue would get into a fistfight over which of them is badass Spike and which is post-souled emasculated whiner Spike.
Finn learns a valuable lesson when his dad comes back from the dead. Hey, what’d you do with my armchair? Let’s go throw a ball around the backyard, son. What do you say we go maim this Burt Hummel guy so I can patch things up with your Mom? Got any bbbrrrrrains in the fridge?
Show Choir rules would require the kids to recruit a hacker and a mage.
Terry Schuster would so try to kill Emma.
Not only would Emma and Will’s romance make sense, so would the overall story arc of each season. In fact, these scripts would be kick ass, nail biting, keep you up at night monuments of continuity. With songs!
At some point it would become obvious that the oft-mentioned AV club is a secret order of high school students operating as a freelance Junior Achievement franchise of the aforementioned Mysterious Media Mogul, with a mission of spreading pain, woe and degradation among the teenagers of Lima.
In a stunning revelation, the evil media mogul turns out to be Adam Baldwin.
After the painful romantic revelations of sectionals, a choir of evil babies attacks the school, rupturing eardrums with their high E’s until Puck and Finn sing them lullabies one by one. By the end of the confrontation, there has been communication, catharsis, and forgiveness. Both boys feel they’ve learned a valuable lesson, but cannot quite articulate what that might be.
When an anonymous visitor leaves the Lima Class of 89 Glee Club time capsule on his front porch, Will realizes his memories of those precious hallowed days are… well, murky. Inside the time capsule, he finds an early arrangement of “Thriller“, written in blood, with such powerfully musical music that he knows it will blow Vocal Adrenaline out of the water at Regionals. Unfortunately, the song calls forth the dancing zombie hoards, who attack the audience and threaten an eternal reign of torment unless the Glee clubber with the purest heart, Kurt, can bring himself to deliver a pitch-perfect and sincere rendition of the anti-pop anthem, Candle in the Wind.
Vocal Adrenaline’s big number, following this musical fiasco, would be New Pornographer’s song “The Slow Descent into Alcoholism.” (Courtesy 
Kelly)
Students who cause a disturbance in the library are never seen again.
After an encounter with her one-time mentor, played with deliciously wicked abandon by guest star Eliza Dushku, reformed dark priestess Suzy Pepper has a relapse to her Will loving ways. She turns Emma into an adorable cartoon mouse… and Sue and Terri into cats.
Succumbing to one of his random fits of badness, Will lets an opposing school’s cheerleading coach into Sue’s office, and the coach steals Sue’s diary. The lurking force of irrational babble within the diary is usually contained by Sue’s personality, but now the entire school runs amok, making megalomaniacal pronouncements, advocating bizarre legislation and telling people that’s how they “Cee” it. Will realizes what he’s done only after he is arrested for gross overuse of haircare products. But how can he get back the journal if he’s in jail?
Gina Torres would take over the school board. She would be wearing extremely provocative boots (and other garments as well) and have Bryan Ryan on a leash. She would sing “When You’re Good to Mama,” from Chicago, to the terrified WMHS student body.
I will leave the true nature of Quinn’s baby unexplored. Or perhaps to you. Additions are, naturally, extremely welcome.
. 
. We were dragging ourselves out the door the other day and what came out of my mouth wasn’t “Rah rah, let’s go, we can do it, go team!” It was: “Let’s show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown.” It made sense. I’m not sure it should have.
and the laugh-riot topic of gaybashing. It’s a bit of a weird essay, perhaps; I had mixed feelings about season two of 
