Rufus: "I mean, you have to account for the fact that they're women and adjust your standards appropriately, but..."
Lily: "-- So what brings you here today, Rufus? Explaining why you're shacked up with that Ivy trash, maybe?"
Ivy: "Yes! Hey, guys. Just let myself in, you know, like how happens on this show."
Lily: "Maybe we could just call you 'Serena' and say fuck it."
Rufus: "That's what I was thinking!"
Ivy: "Rufus, blah blah blah."
Rufus: "I guess I'll take my leave now?"
He... Does. What was this scene about?
Ivy: "All this fake-worrying about Serena is giving you pretend frown lines. Maybe you need some Botox."
Rufus: "Ixnay on the otox-Bay. Let's get out of here, Vaness... Charl... Um."
Rose: "I should really be getting back to the Spectator, now that we've solved this mystery."
Dorothy: "Not until we ruin my former best friend's new life under the guise of caring for her."
Blanche: "I will fuck everybody at this wedding if I have to, to prove I still love you."
Live-In Gay Chef: "I am just so happy to be mad at both my ex-girlfriends in the same lovely location."
Sophia: "I have no idea what the fuck is going on, because I have dementia."
If it's not Sabrina's wedding, they wonder, why is she wearing white? That would be gauche. But then, if it is Sabrina's wedding, why are her tits out? Quite the knuckleball she's throwing them.
Dana Plato: "Maybe 'Sabrina' took too many happy pills and thinks she's a character in Dan's book. You know, like how Dan always kinda thought that."
Todd Bridges: "That actually makes a little sense."
Gary Coleman: "What you talkin' about, Todd Bridges?"
Dana Plato: "Or maybe they're putting together a virgin sacrifice, into that volcano."
Conrad Bain: "I see neither virgin nor volcano here. Not a single one of each. What I do see is little sandwiches."
Objective: Ruin this wedding and Sabrina's new life, regardless of the facts.
Methodology: Everybody continues to talk in that mortifying stair-stepping way, literally placed in sequential order as they talk, and talk, and talk. It's so dead inside that they actors themselves speak in different directions, meeting random eyelines and mumbling like sub-par SNL hosts reading off cue cards because they were too busy to come to rehearsal.