Juliet Sharp, trailing Nate Archibald like a scarf, enters the DUMBO loft and immediately takes the baby away from Dan, who has never met her, so that she can abuse it in Jenny's old bedroom while Nate enacts her plan. Whatever that plan is. For one brief moment, as Dan hands the child over to Nate, we are treated to a vision of a world in which things worked right and those two just settled down finally and made honest men of each other.
Oh, Sharp! Like Becky Sharp. Awesome, she's my favorite. Anyway, while she's molesting Milo -- tearing up New York's runways in a cute-slash-Vanessa approved knit cap with little teddy-bear ears -- Nate and Dan have a confusing and not very linear conversation about Serena, specifically the age-old van der Woodsen Uncertainty Theorem that says you can know Where she is or Where she's been, but never both at the same time. Perhaps she is in Paris, perhaps she has gone to Brown, or is she back in New York, or is she at Columbia, or has the school year already begun. Has she matriculated all of these, or none? Who can say? Nobody knows. By decree of the science, nobody can ever know.
Juliet sends Dan into Jenny's old bedroom to see her handiwork -- Milo dangling from a dress form, mewling -- so that Nate can snatch Dan's phone and see the text message from Serena that Dan has clearly not read, alerting him to the answers of none of the above questions, and which Nate has also received. From these non-facts, which point nowhere and least of all to their conclusion, Juliet and Nate deduce that Dan is playing a wild game with their minds, an offense that cries out for redress. As easy as life usually is for Serena, I have to say that her job of "manipulating Nate Archibald with nonsense" makes Juliet's life pretty much sweetest of the week.
Juliet and Nate having made the transit to DUMBO, it only makes sense that Henry is still getting ready for his first day at work. Eva reminds us that Prague gave him nightmares, while Paris has set him at ease, and that they like to have heterosexual intercourse with each other. Setting out with his vest and cane and working the shit out of Dan's hair from last year, Henry finds himself standing in the middle of the street, nearly mown down by a terrified taxicab driver. Will Henry Prince fall prey to the same pan-European sense of etiquette that saw Charles Bass drowned and shot in two separate countries?
No. Blair, whipping the man about the head and neck with her gloves, barely notices at first the near-victim of her hurried cruelty, but soon enough her eyes lock with the erstwhile object of her affections, hobbling about on his cane under an assumed name, before she donkey-punches the driver once again in hysteria. "Vite!" she screams, wearing van Gogh's hat and desperate to see the fleshpots with her prince; a ghost lingers in the rearview, confronting various emotions and questions of identity, while a man named B.o.B. sings about similar concerns.