Talent management representation agency man Scott Smith looks over Jenny's designs, because they are fully riding that sweet hot buzz you get in the arts community when you do things like ruin charity events, and Agnes keeps tossing her two coke-headed cents in the whole time about how she's the brains and Jenny's just whatever, and Jenny's being totally awesome and professional but eventually she's like, "Dude? Scott Smith can hear you. That invisibility joint you smoked was imaginary. Stop acting like a jackass." Agnes is like, "Girls like us are the target audience. And by 'girls like us' I mean 'girls like me' and by 'girls like me' I mean 'me' and by 'me' I mean that Jenny Humphrey is like a relatively bright and helpful Walmart greeter who can't quite reach the high shelves but has a bunch of fun trying."
Which is not entirely untrue, but that's not the point. The point is that Jenny's awesome now, and she's like, "Agnes, look at who's acting out yet again in another business meeting..." And Agnes, wonderfully, stands up and screams, "YOU WANNA SEE ACTING OUT?" And yes, I do, more than anything in this world, but instead we cut to Jenny hectoring Agnes about how she has ruined the last fifty business meetings they have by being... Exactly what Jenny already knows she is, which is an erratic supermodel sociopath. You knew it was a snake when you put it in your pocket, man. Agnes blows her off and blows her off and says she'll find them a manager, because in Agnes World everything works out except for when it doesn't, and when it doesn't you light some shit on fire.
Eleanor and Blair are both all up Dorota's ass about stuff while waiting for Cyrus Rose to show, and Eleanor's gushing crazily about how great he is, and Blair is desperately happy for her mother and completely ready for a new Daddy to love, something like a cross between Paul Varjak and Roger Thornhill, and they can be a family again, and that's how Blair works, of course, in a nutshell. So she screams at Dorota to put the VW-sized bouquet of roses next to his seat -- "Cary Grant always looked his best with white roses!" -- and Dorota works around her, and then she kind of hops in the air when B screams again, "DOROTA ARE YOU INSANE" and she's like, "I don't know?" This time the insanity is in Dorota putting out "the everyday china," which implies their family is merely "common upper-middle class," and sends Dorota for the Auberges, but just then a tiny little gnome rides a funny miniature draft horse into the room with a jingling bridle of silver and starts giving people presents that he takes out of his funny red hat, and no matter how many presents he gives, there's always more in there, even though it's a very small cap for a very small head, I don't know how he does it but I got a bitchin' copy of Beatrix Potter's classic Tale of Squirrel Nutkin so like I'm not wilding out about it.