Emily looks up from her very important paper to announce to her maid that the mail must be here: "The Farthingtons' dogs are apoplectic." Emily goes on and on about how stupid and ugly their dogs are, but there's nobody in the room to listen to her. The maid hands her the mail. Emily thanks her and asks for some coffee. You know, I never thought there was any reason for me to have a maid, but the sudden realization that someone could fold the towels that just finished in the dryer and then refill my coffee cup...I mean, that's a pretty sweet deal. Or I could just have a kid and wait eight years. Maybe I'll do that one. It's not cheaper, but in the long run you get more bang for your buck. And, you know, Mother's Day. Emily asks her maid to call Richard's valet to make an appointment for a meeting this afternoon. Emily takes her coffee cup and walks through her house, screaming at the neighbors' dogs to shut up.
Rory learned something from her grandmother, and is now barking at some movers to be careful with her couch as they carry it to her dorm room. Rory ditches the movers to say hello to Marty. The movers are standing there like, "We get paid by the hour, lady." Marty and Rory hug. They're both living in that dorm. The movers sit down on the couch, exhausted and tired of being Rory's servants. Rory half-heartedly apologizes and says she should let them in. She asks Marty how his summer was. "I met Nicole Richie," he says. "And then spent the next six weeks showering."
Rory is surprised to see that Paris isn't in her dorm room yet. The movers are so sick of Rory. They're looking at each other, shaking their heads, wondering how deep inside Yale this girl's couch is gonna go. Rory can't believe Paris isn't already here, claiming the best room and setting up everything, so she calls her.
Paris is in all black, sitting in a study. She is weary, and tells Rory she'll be at the room later. "Asher's dead," she says. "He died two weeks ago in Oxford." Okay, we're going to move on from how this doesn't really make any sense, but first I have to list all of the reasons why. What doesn't make sense is that this "esteemed" and "beloved" and "awarded" professor, who happens to be a very close friend of Richard's, died fourteen days ago and nobody knows but Paris? Yale doesn't know? School starts today; you'd think someone would have told Yale that Asher's not coming in. Ever. And there's no mention in the paper? The Oxford...English...Diction-- look, I've never been to Oxford. But I'm sure there's a paper. Paris tells Rory that Asher died of a heart attack, and that he went quickly. Rory, always full of couth and tact, immediately asks Paris if he died while they were having sex. Paris: "No, Rory. This great man was not brought down by my vagina. Okay?" He was teaching a Shakespeare class and had the heart attack during a Puck monologue. The class, at first, thought he was acting. Okay, going back to my main complaint. He died at the school, which means there was a class, which means the school knows he died, which means Yale knows he died, which means the alumni center knows he died, which means New Haven knows he died, which means even my mom in Ansonia would know he died, which means Richard would know he died, and Rory would know he died, and two weeks ago there would have been a memorial and everybody would know that Paris was in mourning and...[breathing out]. Paris says she's in Asher's flat, trying to get his things scored away. By flat, does she mean she's in Oxford? Because people don't have flats over here. Paris complains about Asher's kids, and how spoiled they are, wanting this piece of furniture or that. Paris says that the lawyer handling Asher's affairs is a moron. And she's still dealing with the funeral. Asher wants to be cremated, but the Oxford crematorium was filthy, so she shipped his body to Cambridge, which is known for its cremation facilities. His daughter was upset with the move, but "where was she at Thanksgiving?" Paris. She's his daughter. And she was there at the hospital, or at least maybe his granddaughter was. Regardless, the man has family, people who have known him for decades longer than Paris has, and...[breathing out]. Rory pretends to ask if there's anything she can do to help. Paris says, "I'm sad." Rory: "I know." Paris: "Bye." Rory hangs up and tells Marty that Asher died. "In bed?" he asks. "No." Marty: "Damn. I lost the pool."