Amazing! Blair's got her head in the game, finally, once again.
Blair: "And how long until she can determine the father of her child?"
Dorota: "Blair Cornelia Waldorf!"
Doctor: "Um, this appointment is over despite my not having examined you or provided any prenatal care. As I said, I am very reputable. Dorota, next time you come, you come alone. This chick is giving me agita."
Left alone, Blair reaches out and tweaks one of Dorota's sensitive nipples; the resulting scream can be heard in Queens. Not to be outdone, Dorota grabs her employer's left breast and holds on for dear life. It is quite a pickle. In the end, Dorota realizes that Blair is also pregnant, and the charade is exposed!
Dorota: "You pregnant too! We like sisters now!"
Dorota: "Distant cousins?"
In the end they embrace, careful to avoid one another's breasts. Blair misses Serena.
Per credits, Unsatisfied Hottie: "I'm so sick of all you guys on antidepressants!"
Like fabled Nimue, like Melissa Gorga, the Mysterious Lady Floorfucker has sapped Nate of his essential ingredients. He can no longer rise to the occasion. And without this vitality to provide, of what use is he? Perhaps Brothaniel Snarchibald will lose his qualities one by one, leaving only a colorless cloud of ephemera, a puddle of tea-weak bong-water. Perhaps the eyebrows will be the next to go, lofting skyward like the Lunesta butterfly.
And in a matching club chair, we see his other half, Charles Bass, insensate to la douleur as his brother is to le plaisir. Perhaps it has always been thus.
Chuck: "Do you need pharmaceutical assistance? Or assistance of ... any kind?"
It moves, almost imperceptibly. It goes still again.
Nate: "Yeah, I wish weed was [sic] the answer."
Chuck: "Not what I meant."
Nate: "I cannot stop thinking about that old woman in LA."
Chuck, verbatim: "Understandable, given your mother issues."
Chuck's Infinite Issues Roil and scream within the dungeon of his heart.
Nate: "Speaking of my mother, which I guess we kind of were, I must exposit to you now, at this time, that Anne Archibald has called from a public park in New Jersey, where she has taken to eating pine cones and rich dark earth, to offer me several internships."
Chuck: "Surely that makes sense, given your family history and educational success. Given your nigh-Serena inability to do things or be of use."
Nate: "Yet Schumer, Blankfein. They hunger for my services."
Chuck: "Your mother is mentally ill. Those may well be the names of two fatted squirrels she's stalking for her dinner."
Nate: "I could work for squirrels. I was homeless once, I don't have any pride."