“Blaine!” Kurt hisses, trying to keep his voice low. “When you said there was one last thing you needed to do before we left for New York, I didn't know you meant commit suicide!”

“Don't be overdramatic,” Blaine hisses back, motioning for his husband to get lower while holding a bulging sack of supplies in his arms. Bent over at the waist to use the hedges as cover, Kurt crouches, shifting a similar sack in his own grasp.

“Overdramatic!? You're the one with the death wish, and you're calling me overdramatic??”

Tiptoeing his way up the sidewalk, Kurt steps on a dry twig, and it snaps, making a sound like a firecracker. He and Blaine stop walking, waiting for any sign that they've been spotted. When they don't hear cops speeding to intercept them, when no nets pull them up into the trees, no non-lethal gunfire rains down from above, they continue on.

“Question - can you tell me why we're doing this again?” Kurt grumbles.

“Because,” Blaine explains, “it's a moral imperative.”

“You're full of crap!”

“Kurt,” Blaine stops to turn and face his husband, “it's the ultimate status symbol. We'll be McKinley High legends!”

“Blaine! We're not even in high school anymore!” Kurt argues. “Our time for petty feuds and competitions is over. Let someone else get their spleen ripped out trying to prank Sue Sylvester. I'm on my way to Broadway, Blaine! Not the best time for an impromptu splenectomy!”

“I understand how you feel. I'm not a big fan of revenge, either. But, this is different. After all the times she got us caught up in her psychotic schemes, turning us into puppets, toying with us for her own kinky, sadistic enjoyment, I think that payback is definitely in order.”

“Other people have tried to get payback,” Kurt says.

“Really?” Blaine asks. “Who?”

“No one knows. They didn't escape to tell the tale!”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Kurt…”

“Besides, this kind of behavior was barely acceptable when we were teenagers. We're adults – married adults. It's indecent.”

“Oh, come on. Live a little.” Blaine takes his husband's hand and guides him the rest of the way, to the gate outside Sue Sylvester's front yard. They crouch underneath the hedge and set their sacks on the ground.

“Haven't you ever heard of bygones being bygones?” Kurt asks, hoping one last time to change his husband's mind. He considers just leaving Blaine there to exact his vengeance alone, but Kurt's sure this situation is somehow covered under their wedding vows. Besides, it would be depressing if Blaine didn't live to see their first wedding anniversary.

“Look, Kurt. The house is dark. She's probably asleep. And even if she looks out the window, there's not much of a moon out tonight. She won't see us.”

“Yeah, well, you obviously don't know Sue Sylvester the way I know Sue Sylvester,” Kurt mutters, reaching into his sack and grabbing two handfuls of eggs. “Okay, let's get this over with.”

“On the count of three,” Blaine says, his arms filled to the brim with eggs, “one…two…three!”

Both men bolt up, and Kurt screams. On the opposite side of the hedge, dressed in a black track suit and silent as death, stands Sue Sylvester. Arms folded over her chest, she stares at them, a triumphant grin on her face.

“Porcelain,” she says, calmly addressing Kurt. “Mrs. Porcelain,” she adds, addressing Blaine.

Kurt's chin quivers, and Blaine's jaw drops.

“How…how did you…”

“There's not a day goes by that someone doesn't try to egg or toilet paper my house,” Sue explains. “Years ago, I installed motion detectors and night vision cameras on every post, tree, and fence for miles. I saw you guys when you got off the highway. And, by the way, Porcelain – turn signal. Learn it, live it, love it.”

Kurt takes a step away, riddled with fear, but Blaine, too stunned to move, stands nose to nose with Sue, three dozen eggs trembling in his arms.

“Now, I know what you're thinking,” Sue says to Blaine, not too interested in Kurt since he's made the intelligent decision to back away slowly, “and I admire your passion. I mean, with the price of eggs these days” - Sue shakes her head - “the amount of money you two spent to pull this off is both ridiculous and flattering. But I'm not sure that the authorities will see it that way when I---“

“Blaine! Run!” Kurt yells, pelting Sue with the eggs he's holding in his hands.

Blaine stumbles out of the line of fire, using the distraction to let loose his ammunition, catching Sue off guard eggs pummel her from two sides.

His eggs gone, and with no way to get to his sack to reload, Kurt makes a break for his Navigator, parked not too far away, praying that his husband will be smart enough to follow. Kurt opens the driver's side door and finds that Blaine, in fact, was not, throwing egg after egg as Sue angrily attempts to make it out her gate. She manages to open it, but caught in a mad jumble of shells and yolks, she slips on the sidewalk and falls, unable to get her footing after that.

“I'm going to get you if it's the last thing I do!” she screams, scrambling in the gooey mess. “I've got your number, AnderHummels, and connections in every country in the world! You can run! You can hide! You can change your names, dye your skin, burn off your fingerprints, cross the ocean, and live in a mud hut, and I'll still find you!”

“Run, you loon!” Kurt screams, circling back to grab his husband, still hurling eggs.

“You will regret this!” Sue bellows at the couple, hot on the retreat.

Blaine launches one last egg at Sue and takes off at a sprint. “I regret nothing!”